Sunlight plays over the dunes just behind the shore near Boulogne. A drifter with a piercing stare cups his hands to capture the rays, as if feeding off the spirit of the land. Moments earlier we’ve seen him kill. Is he angel or demon? Or just a damaged man? Welcome to the world of Bruno Dumont, arthouse cinema’s most divisive auteur, where questions are asked, but answers are your department. Here he has an actor who embodies the ambiguities of the material: David Dewaele is remarkable, someone who could play Jesus or the Devil, and who gives credence to the miraculous powers his character displays while leading a troubled girl to salvation. The result is mesmerising, beatific, disturbing, and leaves us pondering our own beliefs in a way few films do.