Review: François Ozon’s ‘L’Étranger’ (The Stranger) Misses the Mark on Adapting Camus

The U.S premiere of François Ozon’s L’Étranger took place earlier this month with the first screenings of the film in New York and at Princeton University Film Festival. Both the novel and the film follow Meursault (Benjamin Voisin), a Frenchman living in Algeria who is put on trial for the murder of an Arab man. Ozon’s take on Albert Camus’ protagonist is described as a “sensitive, queer-inflected adaptation.” While the surface level world-building in L’Étranger (2025) is well done, the deep psychological and philosophical aspects of the novel are lost in this adaptation.

When analyzing L’Étranger it is important to keep in mind how Camus’ ideas of human nature and the meaning of life influences his writing. Before writing L’Étranger, Camus rose to fame for his essays, especially the Myth of Sisyphus. In it he explains his answer to the question of the absurdity of life which is why we carry on living. In short, the answer Camus says is to “become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.”

In the film, Meursault reckons with this question and finds freedom in absurdity even when he is jailed. The film opens with archival footage of colonial Algeria, providing exposition for the audience. We then transition into a scene of Meursault on the floor of a prison. The remainder of the film shows us how he ended up there.

Ozon follows the chronology of events in the novel for the most part but adds personal touches to the narrative. One of these is the framing device of Meursault reflecting on his actions after being arrested. Framing the narrative in this way grounds the audience in the imminent execution of the protagonist. However, Ozon misses the opportunity to have Meursault meaningfully reckon with his choices and defaults to Camus’ detached anti-hero. Benjamin Voisin’s Meursault ultimately succumbs to insanity rather than attaining absolute freedom via absurdism — thereby showing a fundamental misinterpretation of Camus’ novel.

Meursault’s insanity is primarily shown through his costuming and styling. He began the film putting on the appearance of a well-kept member of society. As Meursault spirals into violence, his clothes become rumpled and his clean-shaven facade is replaced by stubble. Through costuming and cosmetics the audience is able to view Meursault’s internal turmoil. Costume designer v both accurately depicts the fashions of the 1940’s and reveals personality through clothing.

Costume and set design are extremely important in this film since the footage is recolored to black and white. The stores in the background, the cars on the road, and the baths of Algeria all make it look like a contemporary 1940’s photograph. Although filming took place in Morocco not Algeria the production crew took care to bring every detail of the time period to life.

While a great deal of care went into crafting the world in which this story takes place, L’Étranger at its core is a journey through Meursault’s psyche, an area largely left unexplored. The cinematography and choices Ozon makes depict the film from a third person point of view. It does not feel like we are inside Meursault’s head and viewing the world through his eyes. Which is a shame since that is the appeal of the novel to experience the world through someone going on a philosophical journey.

The hints of psychological struggle are undermined by Ozon attempting to humanize the women in Meursault’s life. Djemila (Hajar Bouzaouit), the sister of the man Meursault shot, is shown mourning her brother at his grave at the end of the film. Again this muddies the perspective and detracts from Meursault’s character arc. Humanizing Djemila is a noble goal but it takes the audience out of the time and space of 1940s colonial Algeria. It’s hard not to think of how Meursault would have never considered her feelings making it all the more difficult to relate to our protagonist.

Another example is the soft lilting romantic music played when Meursault and Marie go for a picnic or spend the afternoon lounging by the baths. These scenes make it unclear whether Meursault truly loved Marie, which, according to the book,  he most certainly did not. Marie is a distraction for Meursault; she provides pleasure. To fix this and lean into a transactional and detached romance more sex scenes would help. Even if they only have sex once in the book, visually it makes it clear that this is a self-serving relationship for Meursault.

Meursault and Marie are the perfect opportunity for Ozon to bring to life the queer subtext he sees in the novel. Unfortunately this homoerotism he speaks of is more of a sensual aspect of Meursault’s character rather than a deliberate choice to lean into queerness. He describes Meursault’s personality as “feel[ing] things enormously, so we needed sensuality everywhere.” This Freudian way Ozon describes how he sees Meursault is not reflected in the final product of the film at all. Even the most overtly sensual scenes with Marie are not shot to reflect the hedonistic pleasure induced daze Meursault operates under with her. If he must be detached with Marie than to sell the homoeroticism Ozon needs to be bold enough to allow the sensitivity in Meursault to shine through with men. Whether it be during the killing of the Arab man, or with his neighbor Raymond.

 The worst offense of this adaptation by far is not showing Meursault gleefully awaiting his execution. In the final scene Voisin delivers his lines well but his expression is resigned. In the end Meursault fully embraces the absurd, feeling exhilarated and wishing only for cries of hatred at his execution. Sadly Ozon does not grant him that wish.

In an interview with Variety Ozon says at the end Meursault realizes “I was happy, I broke that happiness.” Yes, he does realize this but he also realizes that the second part does not matter. It matters that he was once happy; it does not matter that it is over. Camus explains this line of reasoning which Ozon quoted in his film “even after a single day’s experience of the outside world a man could easily live a hundred years in prison. He’d have laid up enough memories never to be bored.” In the same way being happy once sustains Meursault to still be happy, giving him the courage to embrace the absurdity of his death.

L’Étranger, is a faithful adaptation in terms of plot and is breathtakingly beautiful but fails to capture the philosophical core of the novel it adapts. The director seems to misinterpret Meursault’s worldview as wholly apathetic rather than a protagonist who is reckoning with the absurdity Camus describes.