Morgan S. Dalibert’s AKA is a violent film set in the world of terrorism and national security, providing an inside look into the said milieu. Alban Lenoir plays the experienced special agent doing the French Government’s bidding in Africa and the Middle East. He carries out infiltration on the behest of his political masters and gets his hands dirty in the process. Operating with assumed identities and multiple passports, his cold, tight-lipped and efficient manner are ideal for the job. One thing he isn’t hired to do is ask questions or dwell on the genesis of assignments. It’s a matter of French security, after all. The end justifies the means, as in all cases of national intelligence. When he is flown back to France to work on the case of a Sudanese man called Moktar Al Tayeb (Kevin Layne), once an ally but now radicalised, he asks his veteran boss something out of character: Since when do you organise operations in France? He is to assume the identity of an infamous criminal by the name of Adam Franco during the operation. The government has been hunting Al Tayeb for years and his presence in the country presents their best chance. As per the intelligence gathered, the man is being helped by his friend and local mobster, Victor Pastore (Eric Cantona). Franco is introduced to the latter’s security detail by an inside man. His task is to get to Tayeb after earning Pastore’s trust.

Director – Morgan S Dalibert

Cast – Alban Lenoir, Eric Cantona, Thibault de Montalembert, Saïdou Camara, Sveva Alviti, Kevin Layne  

Streaming On – Netflix

While the narrative throws up some gaps that can’t be ignored, it is believable for the most part. The deceit that takes place in the guise of national security isn’t given a sugar coating. People, no matter how useful they are made to feel, are dispensable. If those at the top are threatened, heads below are bound to roll. AKA’s message is crystal clear. Higher officials in the government will go to any lengths to save face. Undying loyalty to one’s country is another central theme. Franco is aware of how the system works, and yet, will do what is expected of him. He’s too hardened to be an idealist, but twenty years in this life-threatening line of work means that he believes his skill set safeguards French citizens in one way or the other.

Though implausible every now and then, AKA’s action sequences are choreographed to perfection. Be it hand-to-hand combat, car chases or gun battles, the precision with which they are shot is something to behold. Franco’s one-man army heroics are a bit much to digest and fail from keeping in line with the larger, realistic tropes at play. Some important relationships in the storyline aren’t written or explored as well as they ought to have been. The one between Franco and Pastore’s five-year-old stepson is a case in point. The boy warms to Franco, who is tasked with his protection. They play hide-and-seek during the kid’s birthday party even as Franco attempts to bug the mafia boss’s office. Franco begins feeling protective of the child and even tells the boy’s mother (Pastore’s girlfriend) to leave with him when things start going bad. The audience is kept in the dark about Pastore’s friendship with Tayeb. All we know is that they ran a narcotics business together for fifteen years; that isn’t enough to explain why Pastore would stick his neck out to protect a purported terrorist wanted by French authorities. And finally, the business with Pastore’s rivals (Amet’s men) takes too much precedence over the narrative. While this type of cinematic device is deliberately employed to move focus from the primary goal (Franco catching Tyeb) so as to make the denouement powerful, it hones on the power struggle between the gangs more than required.

Despite these flaws, AKA brings an intensity that is well worth the watch thanks to Alban Lenoir’s riveting role. His specific skill set notwithstanding, his needs as a human being, first and foremost, start to show through the cracks. The usually-unemotional special ops agent must choose between the little remaining conscience he has left and the manipulative demands of a corrupt State. The film is nuanced in the sense that it shows intelligence and national security for what it truly is. There is no romanticism to be had. People are branded enemies of the State and are ordered to be taken down if they cease being useful, collateral damage is par for the course, innocent family members are not spared, changes in foreign policy mean you can go from an ally to a threat in the blink of an eye. France’s forgettable colonial legacy in Africa is touched upon as well. These parts and the ones involving unscrupulous Government back-channelling are written exceptionally. With excessive violence and manipulation, AKA manages to capture the imagination through its conflicted central character. It is, among other things, well worth investing in.