A Prophet is Jacques Audiard’s gut wrenchingly brutal depiction/critique of the French penal system.  Upon arrival, the newly convicted Malik is seized upon by the Corsican mafia who offer him a somewhat taxing ultimatum: become an assassin for us, or we’ll kill you.  The beauty of A Prophet, is the narrative is so well written, and the acting so natural and realistic that you often find yourself thinking “my god, what would I do in his place?”
 
Audiard also succeeds in telling a story so engrossing, that even the most squeamish of filmgoers will loose themselves in the grim setting and enjoy the sheer brilliance of the storytelling. A Prophet manages to create a bastille so regularly hellish, that when Malik is transferred to a cell with a crappy, wall bracketed fourteen inch TV, you temporarily forget your own creature comforts and completely empathize with the joy he feels for his new found luxury.
 
Yet while the film is both shocking and compelling, it ultimately exceeds it grasp. The film's unrelenting emphasis on reality (which is crucial for it’s commentary on contemporary French politics and racial tensions) is spoiled with scenes depicting ghosts and visions, which would perhaps work if we were to believe that they were embedded in Malik’s troubled psyche, but one such vision manages to save his life – ruining much of the film’s pivotal tension.
 
The in-your-face irony also becomes unnecessary.  Did the leader of the Corsicans really need to be called Caesar?  Did the Michael Corleone nod need to be completed with Malik too becoming a godfather?
 
I didn’t think so.
 
4/5 sparks.
 
- David Biggins