If there’s one thing you can safely assume about a Julia Ducournau film, it’s that comfort is not part of the deal. The French director who unsettled audiences with “Raw” and then detonated expectations entirely with “Titane,“ yes, the Palme d’Or–winning one involving automotive intimacy, has resurfaced with “Alpha,“ another provocation wrapped in deceptively simple packaging.

On paper, the story sounds almost restrained. “Alpha” follows a troubled 13-year-old girl living with her single mother. One afternoon, she comes home from school with a tattoo on her arm, and from that moment on, everything fractures. That’s the official synopsis, sparse to the point of misdirection, and entirely in line with Ducournau’s fondness for understatement before the impact.

Behind that minimal setup, “Alpha” unfolds as a body-horror film set against the spread of a new, highly contagious bloodborne disease that slowly transforms its victims into marble. The imagery is as unnerving as it sounds, and, as with Ducournau’s previous work, the physical mutation clearly stands in for something more abstract, identity, fear, inheritance, contagion, or perhaps all of the above.

Reactions have been sharply split. Critics don’t quite agree on what “Alpha” ultimately wants to say, but many agree on how confidently Ducournau says it. The film has sparked debate and discomfort in equal measure, a familiar pattern for a director who seems to thrive on walking directly into the fault lines of taste and interpretation.

After “Raw” proved she could unsettle and “Titane” proved she could conquer the festival circuit, “Alpha” positions Ducournau once again as one of contemporary cinema’s most fearless operators; unconcerned with consensus, deeply invested in transformation, and still unafraid to test how much an audience is willing to endure.

“Alpha” is set to open in U.S. cinemas on March 27, 2026.