The Crime Is Mine (2023)

The Crime Is Mine is a champagne-bubbly slice of 1930s Paris where murder, celebrity, and courtroom theater swirl together with the delighted wickedness of a great stage farce. François Ozon directs with a light touch and a sharp eye for hypocrisy, turning a grim premise into a playful, feminist-tinged caper that’s as much about performance as it is about truth. Nadia Tereszkiewicz and Rebecca Marder make a terrific double act—one all sparkle and reinvention, the other all nerve and precision—while Isabelle Huppert storms in like a living plot twist, adding bite and sheer movie-star pizzazz. If you want a sober, procedural whodunit, this isn’t that; but if you’re in the mood for something charming, funny, and deliciously theatrical, it’s an absolute treat.

François Ozon is clearly aiming for a glossy 1930s Paris caper that doubles as a cheeky showbiz satire and a wink at courtroom melodramas, and on that level it often looks and moves like a well-dressed confection. The catch is that it’s intentionally frothy and theatrical, so if you want a genuinely twisty mystery, emotional weight, or hard-edged crime drama, you may find it too airy and a bit pleased with its own cleverness. The tone leans into silliness and pastiche over realism, which can make the big “statement” moments feel more like stagey punchlines than sharp commentary. Still, if you’re in the mood for stylish performances, playful dialogue, and a light, self-aware ride rather than a substantial thriller, it’s an easy watch.