King

There is something inherently ridiculous about a lion in a suitcase, but cinema has a long history of asking us to check our logic at the terminal gate. I stumbled upon King (2022) on a Tuesday night while trying to fix a leaky faucet with a piece of chewing gum, and honestly, the absurdity of the film made my plumbing disaster feel like a minor side quest. It’s a French family adventure that feels like it was beamed in from a 1990s time capsule, yet it’s polished with the high-tech sheen and social-media anxiety of the 2020s.

Directed by David Moreau, who—in a wild career pivot—is better known for the harrowing home-invasion horror Them (2006), King is a much softer beast. It’s the story of a trafficked lion cub who slips his leash at the airport and finds himself in the bedroom of Inès (Lou Lambrecht) and her brother Alex (Léo Lorléac'h). Instead of calling animal control like reasonable human beings, they decide the only logical course of action is to smuggle the cat back to Africa.

The Kooky Grandpa Quotient

Every great family adventure needs an adult who has completely given up on "adulting," and here we get the legendary Gérard Darmon as Grand-père Max. Darmon, whom you might recognize from Asterix & Obelix: Mission Cleopatra or his decades of cool-guy roles in French cinema, plays Max as a lovable, slightly eccentric fugitive from his own retirement home. He’s the engine that turns a "kids-hiding-a-pet" movie into a full-blown road trip across France.

The chemistry between Darmon and the young Lou Lambrecht is the film’s secret sauce. While the plot follows the familiar beats of "avoiding the authorities" (represented here by a relentless customs agent played by Thibault de Montalembert), the heart stays firmly in the backseat of their getaway car. Darmon brings a gravelly, old-school charm that prevents the movie from becoming too saccharine, even when he’s talking to a CGI lion. He treats the absurdity with a straight face, making the whole "smuggling a predator" vibe feel less like a felony and more like a spirited hobby.

A Lion for the TikTok Generation

In our current era of "if it isn't on Instagram, it didn't happen," King makes the smart choice to weave social media directly into the narrative. The kids aren't just running; they are documenting. This creates a fascinating modern tension: the very thing that helps them find allies also acts as a digital breadcrumb trail for the police. It’s a sharp observation on how contemporary childhood is lived through a lens, though the film fortunately stops short of becoming a lecture on "phone use."

Technically, the lion cub is a bit of a mixed bag. In an era where The Lion King (2019) gave us photo-realism that felt a bit soulless, King uses a blend of real animals and visual effects. Occasionally, the cub looks a bit floaty, almost looking like a discarded Build-A-Bear reject against the French countryside, but for the most part, the integration is seamless enough for a family film. It helps that the cub is undeniably cute; the "aww" factor is a powerful shield against cynical CGI critiques.

The cinematography by Antoine Sanier also deserves a shout-out. He manages to make the French suburbs look as expansive and full of wonder as the African plains the characters are dreaming of. There’s a warmth to the palette that makes the whole experience feel like the cinematic equivalent of a warm croissant—comforting, light, and distinctly French.

Why Did This One Slip Under the Radar?

Despite its charm, King hasn't exactly become a global phenomenon. Released during the tail-end of the pandemic's disruptions, it faced a crowded theatrical landscape where family audiences were still hesitant to return to the multiplex for anything that didn't have a "Marvel" or "Minion" logo attached to it. It’s one of those films that performs decently in its home territory—earning about $2.5 million at the box office—but struggles to find its roar on the international stage without a massive Netflix-style push.

Interestingly, David Moreau and his writing partner Jean-Baptiste Andrea (who actually directed the cult horror hit Dead End) seem to have a knack for building tension even in a G-rated environment. There are sequences in the airport and during a bridge crossing that have a genuine pulse to them. It’s a reminder that "family-friendly" doesn't have to mean "boring." They’ve crafted a film that respects a child’s sense of justice—which is often far more absolute and daring than an adult’s.

King is a delightful, if predictable, romp that succeeds because it leans into the earnestness of its premise. It doesn't try to be a post-modern deconstruction of the genre; it just wants to tell a story about a girl, a lion, and a grandfather who probably shouldn't have been given the car keys. If you’re looking for a breezy 105 minutes that captures the spirit of adventure without the heavy baggage of modern franchise world-building, this is a hunt worth going on. It’s a small film with a big heart, and sometimes, that’s all you need to make the bus ride go faster.