When Fall Is Coming

I was halfway through a bowl of slightly-too-salty popcorn when the mushrooms appeared on screen, and I instinctively pulled my bowl away. There is something profoundly unsettling about watching a grandmotherly figure—the kind of person who should be the literal embodiment of safety—meticulously cleaning fungi that she knows might send her daughter to the emergency room. It’s a quintessential François Ozon move: taking the cozy, pastoral comforts of the French countryside and injecting them with a slow-acting, domestic venom.

In When Fall Is Coming (Quand vient l'automne), Ozon proves once again that he is the most prolific "vibe-shifter" in contemporary cinema. While his peers are off making three-hour historical epics or chasing franchise IP, Ozon is in a Burgundy village, filming two legendary actresses as they grocery shop and commit the occasional light felony. It’s a film that feels remarkably "now" in its exploration of the invisible lives of seniors, yet it carries the DNA of a classic 1950s suspense drama.

A Recipe for Disaster

The film centers on Michelle, played with a haunting, quiet elegance by Hélène Vincent. Michelle is living the retirement dream: she’s got a lovely home, a garden that would make a Pinterest influencer weep, and a lifelong best friend, Marie-Claude (Josiane Balasko), just down the road. But the peace is shattered when her daughter, Valérie (Ludivine Sagnier), arrives for the school holidays.

Valérie is, to put it mildly, a piece of work. She’s the kind of person who weaponizes her own unhappiness, and Ludivine Sagnier plays her with a brittle, grating perfection. When Michelle serves up a mushroom lunch that turns toxic, the film teeters on the edge of a thriller. Did she mean to do it? Was it a senior moment or a subconscious "shut up" aimed at her prickly offspring? Ozon doesn't give us the answer immediately, and that ambiguity is where the movie finds its pulse.

What struck me most while watching this—aside from the fact that my cat chose the most tense moment of the mushroom scene to knock a glass of water off my side table—is how much Ozon respects the inner lives of older women. In an era where "representation" often feels like a checklist, Ozon simply treats these women as the complicated, sexual, vengeful, and loving humans they are. Ozon is the only filmmaker alive who can make a lethal mushroom omelet feel like a warm hug.

The Ozon Touch: Cozy Noir

The film shifts gears when Valérie recovers and bans Michelle from seeing her grandson. Enter Marie-Claude’s son, Vincent (Pierre Lottin), who has just been released from prison. The relationship that develops between Michelle and this young ex-con is the film’s most fascinating layer. It’s not quite a replacement-son dynamic, nor is it purely transactional. It’s a strange, symbiotic bond born of loneliness and shared secrets.

Pierre Lottin brings a rough-edged vulnerability to the role that contrasts beautifully with Hélène Vincent’s poise. Their scenes together feel like a modern update on the "wrong man" trope, but transposed into a world of church services and forest walks. The cinematography by Jérôme Alméras captures the Burgundy autumn in colors so rich you can practically smell the damp leaves and woodsmoke. It’s "grandma-core" with a switchblade hidden in the knitting basket.

In the context of 2024 cinema, where everything feels either hyper-digital or exhausting, When Fall Is Coming is a masterclass in directorial restraint. Ozon isn't trying to reinvent the wheel; he’s just reminding us that the wheel still works perfectly if you know how to steer it. He avoids the "instant classic" traps and instead delivers a film that feels lived-in and authentic to the current moment of intergenerational friction.

The Morality of the Mushroom

The script, also by Ozon, is deceptively simple. It tackles the guilt of motherhood and the crushing weight of loneliness without ever feeling like a "message movie." There's a dark comedy humming beneath the surface—mostly thanks to Josiane Balasko, who provides a grounded, cynical counterpoint to Michelle’s internal turmoil.

There’s a specific kind of thrill in watching a movie where the stakes are entirely emotional but feel as high as any blockbuster explosion. When Michelle sits alone in her house, the silence is louder than any Hans Zimmer score. We are watching a woman reclaim her narrative, even if that reclamation involves some morally gray choices.

One thing that might frustrate some viewers is Ozon's refusal to tie everything up with a neat bow. He trusts the audience to sit with the discomfort. It’s a very "French" approach to the thriller genre—one that values psychological truth over plot mechanics. It reminded me of Claude Chabrol’s best work, where the bourgeois facade is always just one bad afternoon away from cracking open.

When Fall Is Coming is a beautifully tart slice of cinema that lingers on the palate long after the credits roll. It’s a reminder that the most dangerous secrets aren't kept in government vaults, but in the kitchens of quiet Burgundy villages. If you’re looking for a film that balances autumnal coziness with a sharp, suspenseful edge, this is your pick. Just maybe skip the mushrooms for dinner afterward.