Valerie Donzelli’s At Work has proven divisive since its festival premiere last year; a film about an artist’s existential ennui while searching for his authentic self that also incorporates a critique of the modern gig economy, it’s simultaneously of the moment and decidedly old-fashioned. Some critics have dismissed Paul (Bastien Bouillon) as a poseur, a dilettante who’s playing at poverty as opposed to a person who has genuine reasons for their lack of means. It’s a fair point, but it misses what Donzelli’s film is actually about, as well as the long history (mostly literary) of artists’ struggles against “the world.”
As the film begins, Paul is presenting his newest novel to his editor, Alice( Virginie Ledoyen). She informs him that his last book has not been successful, especially given the promotional push the publishing house dedicated to it. She also doesn’t like the draft of his new work, a sad-sack tome about the dissolution of his marriage. People don’t want to read stuff like this anymore, according to Alice. So, Paul returns home, where his ex-wife (a cameo by director Donzelli herself) and teenage children are packing in preparation for a big move. They’re leaving France, and Paul has neither the desire nor means to try to stop it. He’s leaving their nicely appointed apartment, too, moving into a small studio space that belongs to a family friend. We learn via occasional bursts of voiceover narration that Paul was once a successful commercial photographer, but gave it up to become a writer. And while he’s had several novels published (no small feat this day and age), they garner very little income. To make matters worse, he’s already spent the advance for his newest, unfinished work.
But Paul is fiercely determined and unrelentingly stubborn, and instead of looking for stable work, he turns to a gig work app. He likes the idea of only taking jobs he wants, leaving him ample time for writing. The app itself is functional, but entirely plausible: not so different from TaskRabbit, potential clients post various odd jobs and users have to be the lowest bidder to get hired. Much of the film, then, consists of simply observing Paul at work, embarking on all manner of low-paid manual labor in exchange for less than minimum wage. He struggles to take apart a huge metal futon frame for a young woman and her hobbled boyfriend, interrupts a house party to build a dresser, and winds up using shears to cut the grass in someone’s backyard instead of a mower (which he doesn’t have and the client assumed he would provide himself). It’s all mildly amusing, watching Paul perform tasks that he’s clearly not cut out for, but the mental, physical, and financial tolls mount.
Adapted for the screen by Donzelli and Gilles Marchand from Franck Courtès’ semi-autobiographical novel of the same name, At Work occasionally resembles Orwell’s Down and Out in Paris and London in its look at the gruelling work of being poor. Paul argues with himself about the nature of poverty, admitting that he’s not genuinely impoverished even as he pinches pennies and skips meals. He notices his own weight loss, does laundry in a sink and hangs it from the ceiling to dry, and at one point even brings home a roadkill deer to harvest the meat. Paul documents his struggles and begins filling notebooks with observations about his various jobs and daily encounters, but never quite tips over into self-loathing or complaining. Despite the protests of his friends and family, Paul sticks with his choice to live beneath his means, valuing a certain kind of freedom while being clear-eyed about the degradation of gig work.
If At Work falters, it’s in a too-tidy ending, where Paul finally publishes something popular and wins the respect of his son. But even here, in an ostensibly happy ending, the hard reality of modern publishing persists (Paul is still booking gig work during a book signing). As appreciation for the arts and the work of artists in all mediums is constantly degraded in our tech-driven world, At Work offers a hard look at the reality of producing something of value in a culture that prefers quick, easy, and disposable.
Published as part of Rendez-vous with French Cinema 2026.
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