The Thread is a gripping film based on the true story of the trial of a man accused of killing his wife. Co-written, directed, and starring Daniel Auteuil (A Silence, Love Boat, Farewell Mr Haffmann, La belle époque), it closely follows French lawyer Jean-Yves Moyart (also known as Maître Mo)’s blog and book Au guet-apens: chroniques de la justice pénale ordinaire.
A husband and father of five children, Nicolas Milik (Grégory Gadebois, Miss Violet, A Great Friend, Delicious), is accused of murdering his wife. Maître Annie Debret (Sidse Babett Knudsen, Danish series Borgen) receives a call from the police station to come interview someone they have in custody. She’s a criminal defence lawyer on duty call, exhausted, and asks if her husband, Maître Jean Monier (Daniel Auteuil), also a criminal lawyer, will go on her behalf — just for the custody stage, with the plan that she will take over the following day.
Maître Monier is a lawyer who has not represented anyone in the criminal court for 15 years after becoming too personally involved in defending a man he believed to be innocent — a man he got acquitted, who then reoffended. Monier meets Milik and afterwards tells Annie that he is “ni un coupable crédible ni un innocent évident” (neither a credible culprit nor an obvious innocent). Yet Milik gets under his skin, and Monier decides, after 15 years of avoiding courtroom defence, to take this one on.
The Thread centres on a tense three‑day trial. On its periphery runs the story of a young bullfighter, whose father fears he may run into trouble with the law. While this subplot feels largely unnecessary in narrative terms, it seems intended to echo the central drama: the bullfighting ring, like the courtroom, is an arena where skill, courage, and performance are tested under intense public scrutiny. Both are charged with danger, deception, and risk: a ritualised confrontation in which the stakes are nothing less than life, death, or ruin. Ultimately, however, this symbolic thread felt more thematic padding than genuine enrichment, adding little to the film’s impact.
Milik’s friend, bar-owner Roger Marton (singer-songwriter Gaëtan Roussel), is co-accused with him of the murder. A freshly washed knuckle‑duster was found under his sink, and he was overheard telling Milik at the bar the night before that he should just be done with her — adding that if it had been him, it would have been done already. His wife cannot account for what he did between 1 am, when the bar closed, and 3:30 am., when he collapsed into bed saying “putain je l’ai fait” (fuck, I did it) without explanation before falling asleep.
The deceased’s sister Audrey Girard is played by Aurore Auteuil, Daniel Auteuil’s daughter, who gives us Elisabeth Moss in The Handmaid’s Tale vibes. Unlike Monier, Audrey is convinced of Milik’s guilt and is unable to hold back her emotions and thoughts both in and outside court.
The cinematography is often striking. Court footage is sometimes filmed in a grainy style, almost as if we were watching archival material from decades ago. There is also a memorable scene between Milik and Monier in the jail, where we only see Monier’s face via the reflection in the glass that separates them. Gaspar Claus’ soundtrack of classical cello, violin, and piano is appropriately haunting and suspense‑building at key points.
As always, Auteuil and Gadebois give outstanding performances in The Thread. Balancing emotional subtlety with moments of gripping tension, they command the screen and keep the drama grounded. Gadebois is particularly convincing as the downtrodden Milik: a husband and father left to cope with five children while his alcoholic wife offers little support, embodying both quiet resilience and barely concealed despair. Monier is at times exasperated with his client, who refuses to participate in the re‑enactment and will not point the finger at his co‑accused, Roger, despite there being far more evidence against him. These are moments that Auteuil plays with a finely judged mix of frustration, restraint, and professional duty.
The Thread gains an added layer of authenticity and emotional resonance with audiences knowing it is based on a true story. It is not just the story of a murder trial but of a man who reignites his passion for the profession, putting himself at risk of again falling into the same trap, believing that his job is to save, not simply defend, his client. At the film’s core is the real moral risk : the danger of a lawyer crossing the blurred line from advocate to saviour.
On a side-note, for audiences outside France, the restrained atmosphere of the French courtroom, with its formal ceremony and absence of showboating objections, offers an intriguing contrast to more theatrical Anglo-American trial dramas.
Despite a symbolic subplot that adds more decoration than depth, The Thread is a taut, intelligent courtroom drama anchored by two remarkable performances and a quietly devastating moral line. Gripping from start to finish, The Thread is a must‑see for anyone who enjoys courtroom dramas, has a taste for true crime, or simply wants to watch two of France’s finest actors at the top of their game.
4.5 CROISSANTS
Matilda Marseillaise attended a media preview screening of The Thread
The Thread will be released in Australian cinemas on 28 August 2025. It was released in France as Le Fil (which also means The Thread) on 11 September 2024. The film is known as An Ordinary Case in all Anglophone countries other than Australia.
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