The murder and beheading of teenage shepherd Nizar is portrayed with somber restraint, steeped in the grief and numb shock of a small mountain village. “Based on a true story” appears before the first frame, yet parts of Red Path feel so outlandish you forget—until the closing credits remind you it all happened.
The strongest scenes follow the family back up the mountain to retrieve Nizar’s body, whilst his head is stored in the family fridge and reporters crowd their home, It's a quesy balance of macabre and tragic, handled with care. Less convincing are the dreamlike encounters between Achraf—the cousin who survived—and a living Nizar. Framed as catharsis, they register instead as a misjudged fantasy detour.
The film also skirts vital context: the killers' links to Tunisia's IS wing and the national shock that followed. Without that frame, the tragedy seems smaller than it was. What remains is an unsettling portrait of loss, grief, and intrusion—potent in parts, but weakened by choices that pull it away from the reality it seeks to honour.