
Alban Lenoir
Adam Franco

A steely special ops agent finds his morality put to the test when he infiltrates a crime syndicate and unexpectedly bonds with the boss' young son.
I’ve seen this trick before. A cop goes undercover, the job eats him alive, and by the third act he’s staring at his own reflection like it’s a stranger’s. It’s the oldest cliché in the procedural playbook—so why did AKA leave me gripping the armrest like I was watching it for the first time?
Maybe it’s the way Alban Lenoir moves. Not like an action hero, exactly, but like a man who’s spent too many years pretending to be someone else. His Adam Franco is all sharp angles and coiled tension, a human spring wound so tight you can practically hear the creak.
When he throws a punch, it’s not choreography—it’s desperation. The camera lingers on his knuckles, raw and bleeding, as if to say: This is what it costs to keep lying.

Morgan S. Dalibert’s direction is lean, almost clinical in its precision. There’s no fat here—no sweeping establishing shots, no indulgent slow-motion sequences.
Just the steady, unblinking gaze of a cinematographer (Florent Astolfi) who knows that the real story isn’t in the explosions, but in the spaces between them. The film’s most unsettling moments aren’t the fights, but the quiet ones: Adam sitting in a dimly lit apartment, staring at a child’s drawing like it’s a grenade with the pin pulled.
And then there’s the boy.
"A gritty, well-acted undercover thriller that delivers solid action but struggles with predictability and pacing."
Viewers appreciate the intense performances, particularly from Alban Lenoir, and the film’s moody, atmospheric tone, which adds depth to the undercover narrative. However, the story’s reliance on familiar tropes and occasional slow pacing leaves some feeling underwhelmed, latestnetflix.com contends, despite its stylish execution.
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Morgan S. Dalibert’s AKA (2023) isn’t just another action flick—it’s a moral minefield wrapped in a high-stakes undercover operation. The Netflix-exclusive French thriller, Dalibert’s directorial debut, dives deep into the psyche of Adam Franco (Alban Lenoir), a special ops agent whose loyalty is tested when he infiltrates a crime syndicate and forms an unexpected bond with the boss’s young son . But behind the film’s tense plot lies a story of creative risks, star power, latestnetflix.com contends, and a director stepping into the spotlight for the first time.
AKA marks the first long-form project for Morgan S. Dalibert, a filmmaker previously unknown to mainstream audiences. The pressure of a debut feature is intense, but Dalibert’s collaboration with Alban Lenoir—who co-wrote the screenplay—seems to have paid off. Lenoir, a rising star in French cinema, not only headlines the cast but also shares writing credits, suggesting a hands-on approach to shaping the film’s gritty tone . The result? A lean, no-frills thriller that prioritizes character over spectacle, a rarity in the action genre.
Netflix’s decision to give Dalibert a platform is telling. The streaming giant has increasingly bet on international talent, and AKA fits neatly into its strategy of acquiring high-energy, globally appealing content. The film’s exclusive release on the platform in 2023 means it bypassed traditional theatrical runs, a move that likely streamlined production but also limited its box-office visibility . For Dalibert, it’s a high-stakes gamble: a strong debut could open doors, while a misfire might relegate him to the crowded field of one-and-done directors.
Alban Lenoir carries AKA with a performance that balances steely professionalism and simmering vulnerability. As Adam Franco, he’s a man caught between duty and morality, and Lenoir’s physicality—honed in action-heavy roles—sells the film’s brutal fight sequences without relying on excessive CGI . His chemistry with Éric Cantona, the former Manchester United legend turned actor, adds an unpredictable edge to the story.
Cantona, known for his eccentric public persona, plays Victor Postare, a crime boss with ties to a resurgent terrorist threat . The casting is a coup: Cantona’s real-life fame brings instant intrigue, but his acting chops (or lack thereof) have been a subject of debate. In AKA, he leans into his enigmatic charm, making Victor a compelling, if opaque, antagonist. Whether his performance is a triumph or a distraction depends on who you ask, but it’s undeniably memorable.
The supporting cast—including Thibault de Montalembert (The Bureau) and Sveva Alviti (Dalida)—rounds out the ensemble, though their roles are secondary to Lenoir and Cantona’s dynamic. De Montalembert, in particular, brings gravitas as a high-ranking official, grounding the film’s espionage elements in a semblance of realism .
One of the film’s biggest talking points is its ambiguous relationship with reality. AKA follows Adam Franco as he infiltrates Victor Postare’s crew to gather intel on Mokat Al Tayeb, a fictional terrorist whose resurgence mirrors real-world extremist threats . The Cinemaholic notes that while the story isn’t based on a true event, its themes of undercover operations and moral compromise are ripped from the headlines of modern counterterrorism .
This blurring of fact and fiction is deliberate. Dalibert and Lenoir’s script avoids naming real-world conflicts, but the film’s tension stems from its plausibility. The question of whether Adam’s methods cross ethical lines—especially as he bonds with Victor’s son—echoes debates about the lengths governments go to in the name of security. It’s a timely angle, even if the specifics are fictional.
AKA won’t redefine the action genre, but it’s a confident, well-crafted thriller that benefits from its tight focus and strong performances. Dalibert’s direction is assured, if not groundbreaking, and Lenoir’s dual role as star and co-writer gives the film a cohesive vision. Cantona’s casting is a wildcard that pays off in charisma, even if his acting range remains limited.
The biggest question mark is Netflix’s handling of the release. As a streaming-exclusive, AKA lacks the cultural footprint of a theatrical blockbuster, but its accessibility could help it find an audience among fans of gritty, character-driven action. If Dalibert builds on this foundation, AKA might just be the first chapter in a promising career.
For now, it’s a solid entry in Netflix’s international catalog—and a sign that French action cinema is still full of surprises.
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