‘The Shrinking Man’ (2025)

Out for a swim one day at sea, Paul (Jean Dujardin) witnesses an odd meteorological phenomenon. Soon after he notices he is beginning to shrink in size. With medical experts perplexed and unable to assist him, Paul has to come to terms with his condition.

Surrounded by loving wife, Elise (Marie-Josée Croze) and young daughter, Mia (Daphné Richard), Paul spends his time at his ship-building business and shares a beautiful home with his family. With his mind wandering however, Paul seems withdrawn, lost in thought and at times unable to participate in family life. Not that anything is necessarily wrong, ‘The Shrinking Man’ illustrates a person lost. With all areas of his life carrying on swimmingly, Paul assesses that his life would go on without him even if he wasn’t there.

Examining initially Paul’s detachment from his everyday life, Dujardin delivers a quiet yet deeply sombre individual. Going through the motions, attending work, making dinner for his family or fixing things around the house, the character is constantly accompanied by a dark shadow. Looming large over him, disallowing the man to live his life and enjoy the little things that make it worthwhile, Dujardin’s Paul seems trapped in a daily routine that feels like a rut.

Slowly realising he is becoming smaller, Paul and Elise go to hospital, have him tested and are forced to acknowledge that Paul isn’t sick, rather that he is just shrinking. The condition drives a wedge between Paul and his wife, as emotional issues and financial constraints surface. Growing ever smaller, Paul is even unable to play with Mia, becoming isolated and slipping deeper into thoughts about self-worth and his purpose.

The film makes great strides towards raising pressing issues about manhood and an individual’s role when an unexpected incident completely nullifies the person as they were before, forcing them to adapt to a new, unfamiliar way of being. Unable to come to terms with the situation, Paul lashes out and distances himself from everyone else.

Left trapped in the family home basement after an incident with the family pet cat Tofu, Paul learns to survive, gathering food from an old mousetrap and water from the leaking boiler. Resigning himself to surviving, Paul further ventures into existentialism as he grieves the time he has lost with his family and fights for survival against an arachnid threat.

Accompanying the film are voice-over narrative snippets, as Dujardin’s Paul delivers his thoughts, musings and more importantly, especially as the film nears its conclusion, philosophical insights. The main character is constantly grappling with understanding his existence, ever changing as he is more and more affected by the inexplicable shrinking.

Eventually analysing the broader philosophical thoughts on our existence altogether, ‘The Shrinking Man’ delivers some sobering food for thought without patronising the viewer. Even though the discussion may lead to some saddening conclusions, the film encourages one to make the most of what little fleeting time we have, embrace the inevitable and strive for a fulfilling existence.

Director Jan Kounen’s adaptation of the Richard Matheson science-fiction novel of the same name carries a heavy and introspective tone as Paul slowly goes through different stages of accommodating his condition. With the narrative voice-over coming and going, the commentary may be surprising at times, but overall adds to the internal plight Paul is suffering. Delivering some intense scenes coupled with well-choreographed physical acting, the film swings from quiet introspection to full-blown action at the drop of a hat, providing for real moments of excitement as we watch Paul struggle and fear for his survival.

Even though Paul may at first seem ungrateful for what he has, bogged down by daily routine, we eventually cannot help but root for him as he is faced with acknowledging the meaninglessness of his own existence. Highlighting that there is precious little to justify our existence, ‘The Shrinking Man’ forces us to embrace the inevitable and enjoy what little time we have.

Score: 3/4