One feels less like a spectator and more like an inhabitant

The acting is by and large very strong, especially in long, intimate scenes like a drunken game of “canard, canard, goose” in Trelkovsky’s apartment, the Zys’ fight over a mummified talisman, or the off-air banter between two radio play performers. There are wordless moments of great visual power too, as when roughly half the cast begins pacing the halls dressed like the deceased former tenant in blonde wig and red dress, or when the silhouetted man across the square stares insistently into Trelkovsky’s room. Whatever fragments of the various stories one comes away with,The Tenant‘s success can be gauged by the extent of its immersion. After two hours one feels less like a spectator and more like an inhabitant of a beautifully dilapidated old building whose tenants are all different degrees of crazy.