At the time of its release, Bruno Dumont’s debut feature arrived as something of a paradox. On the one hand, the film delved into unexplored territory (at least for mainstream art cinema) by portraying sexual intercourse between its main actors without the use of prosthetics or other forms of cinematic trickery. But The Life of Jesus did not provoke the level of controversy one might expect from such a work, or from its director, who would later be one of the filmmakers associated with the so-called “New French Extremity.” Largely bypassing their usual hysterics, critics lauded Dumont’s film for its understated tone and frank depiction of the day-to-day existence of its troubled protagonist Freddy (David Douche) and his girlfriend Marie (Marjorie Cottreel). Much like the great French director Robert Bresson before him, Dumont cast non-professional actors in many of the film’s parts, and mostly eschewed camera movement, flashy visual compositions, and non-diegetic music. But despite its limpid and even dour execution, The Life of Jesus is a sensitive film that finds grace in aspects of life that art often passes over. For this, it is a stirring work.