‘Dust’ review: Anke Blonde’s claustrophobic late-90s Belgian drama lacks high-stakes tension

Dir: Anke Blondé. Belgium, Poland, Greece, UK. 2026. 115 mins.

Belgium, 1999. A damp corner of rural West Flanders is fired up with entrepreneurial enthusiasm, buoyed by the investment opportunities offered by a pioneering local software company. But the tech titans behind the headlines, coding wizard Luc (Jan Hammenecker) and marketing genius Geert (Arieh Worthalter), have feet of clay. Literally – Flemish mud appears prominently in a none-too-subtle metaphorical capacity.

The punchy blend of humour and pathos that made ’The Best Of Dorien B’ such an eye-catching debut is more muted here.

Playing out over a final day of freedom before the duo’s illegal activities become public, and reputations and share prices collapse, Anke Blondé’s second feature Dust, which premieres in Berlin competition, is an effectively claustrophobic character study. But since the worst has already happened and exposure is imminent, the film lacks the high-stakes tension that might have made it more compelling.

The second feature film from former casting director Blondé, Dust follows the award-winning short film Dura Lex and her feature debut The Best of Dorien B (2019), which premiered in Rotterdam Festival and went on to pick up a healthy haul of festival prizes. The punchy blend of humour and pathos that made the female-led Dorien B such an eye-catching debut is more muted here. Still, the biting screenplay by Angelo Tijssens, co-writer of Lukas Dhont’s Close and Dhont’s forthcoming third feature Coward, makes a timely argument that, while Geert and Luc are undoubtedly guilty of dubious business practises, the voracious corporate culture that consumes them is the real villain.

The period in which the story is set is crucial. There’s a gold rush fervour about the possibilities of the tech industry – the bubble is still growing and there’s no indication that it will ever burst. But the kind of investment that fuels rapid growth needs a little persuasion. Luc and Geert have been setting up shell companies to artificially inflate the share price of the business. All of this becomes clear through a non-linear patchwork of scenes that follow the two men on a globe-trotting business trip, where they rub shoulders with global bigwigs and pitch their latest innovation – voice recognition software (one of the film’s more successful running jokes is the fact that the only voice it can recognise is Luc’s).

In the gent’s bathroom at a glitzy reception, next to a marble-lined urinal, the world comes crashing down. They are buttonholed by an investigative reporter, Aaron (Anthony Welsh). He has, he tells them, a paper trail that leads straight to prison. The story will hit the front pages in 36 hours. It’s not entirely clear what Aaron’s motive is for telling them this, other than narrative expediency, as he doesn’t seem to be asking for a statement or response. But the meeting starts a ticking clock. The men must weigh their options – maintain silence or warn their friends and family; stay the course or flee to somewhere with beaches and no extradition treaty.

Andrea Balency-Béarn’s score is a standout element: the droning ambient hum feels like the musical equivalent of the walls closing in. The sounds of a panicking office – in particular, the rhythm of a paper shredder – are deftly incorporated into the music. And the film’s use of colour is articulate, with a sickly yellow tinge evoking the dread and panic that has Luc repeatedly vomiting from stress.

Less successful is the film’s attempt to sustain tension. At their homes – Luc with his businesslike and domineering wife Alma (Fania Sorel), Geert with his driver and secret lover Kenneth (Thibaud Dooms) – the men stew. Luc becomes increasingly paranoid that Geert is plotting to betray him. With good reason; Geert has a suitcase full of money and the beginnings of an escape plan. And while Luc looks increasingly dishevelled – he has a canapé stain on his shirt and Flemish mud on his suit – Geert remains immaculate.

Dirt, it seems, sticks to some people and not others. But despite the film’s attempts to paint the men as victims of a capitalist industrial complex, it’s hard not to feel that they are about to get exactly what they deserve.