In the crowded canon of war cinema, few films manage to feel both understated and monumental.

But Robert Bresson’s 1956 French classic A Man Escaped achieves just that – a gripping true story of resistance and survival made with precision that has earned it an unblemished 100% rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

Based on the memoirs of André Devigny, a French Resistance fighter imprisoned by the Nazis during World War II, A Man Escaped tells the story of a lieutenant’s methodical attempt to flee from the Montluc prison in Lyon.

The film’s full French title – Un condamné à mort s’est échappé ou le vent souffle où il veut – translates to A Man Condemned to Death Has Escaped or The Wind Bloweth Where It Listeth, capturing both its existential weight and spiritual undertones.

What makes Bresson’s film unique is not just the suspenseful plot – although the escape itself is edge-of-your-seat compelling – but how little it leans on cinematic embellishment.

There’s no bombastic score, no sweeping camera moves. Instead, Bresson strips the prison break genre “down to its bare essentials,” as one Rotten Tomatoes reviewer put it, and “tactfully enthralls the viewer with its authentic, meticulous psychological focus”.

The film immerses us in long silences, whispered conversations through cell walls, and the scraping of spoons against wood as tools of liberation. Bresson casts non-professional actors and avoids melodrama, allowing the claustrophobia and slow, measured pace to mirror the psychological tension of imprisonment.

Viewer reviews on Rotten Tomatoes reflect the quiet power of the film. One praised its minimalism, writing: “It does a lot with very little, making it all feel that much more authentic.” Another fan added: “The movie is simple enough but it really shows the struggle and resilience this sort of endeavour can take. I felt trapped until the titular escape happened.”

Though it may not have the name recognition of The Great Escape or Bridge on the River Kwai, A Man Escaped is widely considered a foundational work of art-house cinema and a staple for filmmakers exploring themes of confinement and resistance.

Directors from Paul Schrader to the Dardenne brothers have cited Bresson’s influence, particularly in how he lets emotion seep through quiet gestures rather than grand declarations.

Released just over a decade after the end of the Second World War, the film also served as a reflection for postwar France – a country still grappling with the trauma of occupation and collaboration.