The Cannes Film Festival this year highlighted a growing unease with institutions and the subtle ways they falter under pressure, as reflected in several prominent films showcased at the event. Among the key winners were Cristian Mungiu’s *Fjord*, which received the Palme d’Or, and Andrey Zvyagintsev’s *Minotaur*, awarded the Grand Prix. Both films explore the erosion of moral authority within established systems, albeit through markedly different narratives and settings.

*Mungiu’s Fjord* centers on a Romanian evangelical family living in a Norwegian village, whose rigid interpretation of scripture clashes with the local child-protection authorities. The film critically examines how bureaucratic systems—in this case, the child welfare apparatus—can become dehumanizing by adhering strictly to protocol at the expense of compassion and nuanced judgment. Set against the backdrop of an ostensibly orderly and peaceful society, *Fjord* exposes a disquieting tension between institutional order and individual humanity, resisting clear-cut conclusions about right and wrong.

In contrast, *Minotaur* transposes Claude Chabrol’s *La Femme infidèle* to contemporary Russia under Vladimir Putin’s rule. On the surface, the film depicts a story of adultery and murder. Beneath this lies a broader commentary on how authoritarian governance infiltrates personal relationships, fostering an atmosphere of fear and coercion that extends even into private life. The film’s stark, empty visuals underscore a society where power structures infiltrate and distort everyday interactions, reflecting the corrosive impact of an oppressive regime’s influence on the social fabric.

Both films, despite their divergent settings and aesthetics, pose a similar question: what becomes of institutions designed to protect individuals when they prioritize self-preservation over their fundamental mission?

Beyond Cannes, Vincent Garenq’s *L’Abandon* presents a harrowing reconstruction of the events leading to the 2020 murder of Samuel Paty, a French history teacher who was beheaded outside his school after showing students caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad during a lesson on free expression. The film chronicles the convergence of factors that culminated in this tragedy in the Paris suburb of Conflans-Sainte-Honorine: social media-fueled outrage, the spread of Islamist radicalization, local political activism, and bureaucratic hesitation. Garenq’s methodical approach evokes both judicial rigor and the suspense of a thriller, portraying the killer not merely as an individual but as a product of a toxic environment.

*L’Abandon* probes the wider implications for the French Republic, which once upheld educators as vital pillars of civic identity but now appears uncertain about how to protect them. The film exposes institutional reticence and a climate in which silence and inaction allow extremist threats to escalate unchecked. Viewed alongside *Fjord* and *Minotaur*, it completes a thematic triptych reflecting contemporary crises of faith in public institutions—from liberal states confronted by illiberal beliefs, to authoritarian regimes permeating private life, to republics grappling with their own capacity, or lack thereof, to safeguard core societal values.

Together, these films at Cannes and beyond offer sobering meditations on institutional fragility in an era marked by moral and political upheaval.