‘Heat of Madness’ Review: Experimental Crime Thriller Is a Bizarre Yet Frustrating Journey [Sitges 2026]

In 2022, writer and director Karim Ouelhaj shocked audiences with Megalomaniac, a twisted take on the serial killer film. Now, in his highly anticipated follow-up feature, Heat of Madness, Ouelhaj is again examining acts of extreme violence, but this time through the eyes of a rage-filled thief who believes he’s owed the world. While the film boasts gorgeous cinematography from Bernard Vervoort and great performances, the overall narrative is too disjointed, feeling more like a series of bizarre vignettes than a cohesive story. In attempts to craft a more experimental film that refuses to adhere to linear time, Ouelhaj ends up with an interesting but oddly frustrating film that suffers under the weight of its own ambition.

The first hour of the film plays out like a violent crime thriller, following Scola (Olivier Picard), a diamond thief who’s been scammed after his most recent heist; a heist that was supposed to be his last before the birth of his daughter. But instead of financial security, he’s left with nothing but fury at his situation. Desperate for some kind of control, he goes on a violent spree to get back what he claims is rightfully his. Sounds like a typical revenge crime thriller, right?

Well, this is when things start to get weird, and Heat of Madness suddenly becomes a bizarre, dark industrial fantasy. We watch Scola traverse desolate landscapes searching for diamonds and leaving bodies in his wake. Here he also meets the mysterious woman simply known as Petite Pomme (Julie Carroll), who, quite literally and inexplicably, farts apples. Their oddball journey is occasionally interrupted by short scenes of Scola covered in blood, crawling through the woods, with a strange figure walking behind him. Why? Don’t worry about it.

And that’s how a lot of Heat of Madness operates: don’t worry about it, just go with the flow. It becomes surprisingly experimental as Ouelhaj continues to distort time and space, memory and reality. The more violent Scola becomes, the less things feel real. The story quickly becomes unmoored, a fascinating attempt at nonlinear storytelling. However, the film’s pacing keeps that attempt from being ultimately successful. The more experimental elements of come almost too late, with the audience too comfortable in the hyper-violent thriller to understand why they’re suddenly being placed in a surprise dark fantasy film told in snippets rather than cohesive scenes. While Ouelhaj couldn’t care less about audience comfort (said as a high compliment), the bloated final act is weighed down with confusing metaphors and symbols that fall flat.