Review: Dust
- BERLINALE 2026: Anke Blondé follows the last 36 hours of freedom of two Flemish tech entrepreneurs on the verge of being arrested at the dawn of the 21st century

Discovered in 2019 with her first feature film The Best of Dorien B [+see also:
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film profile], selected at the International Film Festival Rotterdam (Big Screen Competition), Flemish filmmaker Anke Blondé presents the world premiere of her second film, Dust [+see also:
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Dust follows the trajectory, or rather the downfall, of two men, two partners who created a revolutionary product: a software capable of transforming voice into code, or written text. This was enough to revolutionise our digital habits, at least in 1999. Except that to finance this ambitious venture, Luc (Jan Hammenecker) and Geert (Arieh Worthalter) solicited every small and large investor in Flanders, even if it meant falsifying the figures. With a foreign newspaper about to publish an investigation that will definitively demolish their house of cards, and with their arrest imminent, they have 36 hours to take stock of their actions and settle their accounts - first and foremost with themselves. But are they ready to face up to their responsibilities? And what will remain of their identities once the masks come off?
Luc and Geert may have seen the future, but they belong to the past. They symbolise an old-fashioned masculinity that suffocates them as much as their polished shoes and starched suits. There is also an inherent irony in observing from a distance a technology that was once revolutionary - a cruel way of highlighting both the hubris of men and their irremediable obsolescence. And perhaps there is also an urgency to portray tech giants with feet of clay. In the meantime, Luc and Geert remain human, and will have to lay themselves bare - or almost - both literally and figuratively. The characters will experience the fall of their virtual empire in a very concrete, very physical way, particularly Luc, who will become increasingly bogged down in his contradictions (and the fields of West Flanders), while Geert will take a day and a night to accept fate. The flashbacks scattered throughout the editing evoke a sense of rumination - what exactly went wrong? There is little doubt about the legal outcome awaiting the two men, and even if the possibility of betrayal begins to surface, the suspense lies more in their reactions. Ultimately, the burning question becomes: can a man allow himself to cry? Each must find his own answer, as Luc and Geert walk side to side before finding theirs.
Jan Hammenecker, tested to the core and stripped of his business attributes, wears his emotions on his sleeve. Arieh Worthalter burns coldly with an inner fire, long unreadable, resisting the inevitable decline until the very end. Despite its sometimes cruel humour, Dust nevertheless manages to humanise these two men who have failed in almost everything, even in their criminal careers.
Dust was produced by A Private View (Belgium), in co-production with Heretic (Greece), Shipsboy (Poland) and Bêtes Sauvages (UK). LevelK will handle international sales.
(Translated from French)
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