‘Flesh And Fuel’ review: A French trucker finds love on the road in sensitive, mature debut

Dir: Pierre La Gall. France. 2026. 90mins

Introverted 40-something French truck driver Etienne (Alexis Manenti) doesn’t think much beyond his next job. Working long hours on the road and practically living in his truck, his life is dictated by scheduling logistics, customs forms and traffic. When he meets Polish driver Bartosz (Julian Swiezewski) a crack appears in his limited worldview and, as the two embark on a tentative long-distance relationship of sorts, his horizons begin to broaden. The strength of Pierre La Gall’s debut feature lies not in its characters discovering who they are – they are entirely comfortable in their sexuality – but instead on the joy of finding a spark of genuine connection in an unexpected place.

Takes care to flesh out the central characters beyond their sexuality

Having premiered at Cannes, where it received the Queer Palm Revelation award, Flesh And Fuel has since played at several festivals including Zurich, where it won the Golden Eye for best international feature. It will travel to further festivals including Sao Paolo before opening in France in December. The film has also sold to territories including the US (Strand Releasing) and UK-Ireland (BFI), where audiences should appreciate its clear-eyed handling of LGBTQ+ themes and the chemistry between its two compelling leads.

Opening sequences offer a shorthand for the isolation and monotony of Etienne’s life, his work so all-consuming that he doesn’t have time for much else – certainly not spending time with his sister and nephew. A sequence at a colleague’s leaving party indicates this is a close-knit community, but day-to-day existence is largely solitary. One night, Etienne meets Polish trucker Bartosz while cruising the busy woods behind a truckstop. While the arrival of the police breaks up their intimate encounter, there is a definite attraction and, when their paths cross again, they begin to stay in touch through phone calls, voice notes and shared videos.

Flesh And Fuel shares themes with David Pablos’ 2025 Venice Horizons winner On The Road, but is a more mellow and tender affair. Le Gall, who co-writes with Camille Perton, focuses on the warmth of human connection, and DoP Antoine Cormier lenses sequences between the men – including the woods encounter, revisited in a later, more dreamlike fantasy sequence – with a tender intimacy, offering real respite from the arduous demands of the road. As the two attempt to stay connected, fighting against long days and demanding schedules that take them all over Europe, there is genuine delight in fleeting moments, including a lovely sequence where they pass each other on a bridge, horns honking. “Shall we do that again?,” asks an elated Etienne – before realising he just doesn’t have the time.

Time is the real villain of this story, with the constant demands of the road threatening to scupper this potential romance before it even begins. There’s a strong chemistry between the taciturn, kindly Etienne and the larger-than-life Bartosz – demonstrated not just by their passionate sex but also their easy manner with each other – but that may not be enough to overcome the challenges they face. Bartosz is forced to worker longer hours as his exploitative company competes in a crowded marketplace; Etienne to spend more time travelling to the UK. It will take real effort to build something together, and just as Paul Sabin’s score moves between melancholic strings and upbeat electronic beats, there are moments where all hope feels lost, and others where everything feels possible.

The screenplay takes care to flesh out the central characters beyond their sexuality, and leans into the fact that these are not adolescents in the first flushes of their queerdom, but middle-aged men – with bald spots and pot bellies and bad backs – who are experienced enough to know when they have found something worth holding onto. Swiezewski gives the film its energy and humour, his boisterous laissez-faire approach to life a counterpoint to Etienne’s quiet acceptance of his fate. “I didn’t know something like this could happen to someone like me,” Etienne muses. Manenti gently guides the character from resigned lone wolf to optimistic romantic with a performance that is all the more powerful for its sensitivity and restraint.