* * 1/2
There was so much promise
throughout Double Lover. Even with
its flaws, I was convinced with utmost confidence that I was watching a
psychosexual drama great enough to possibly join the ranks of Last Tango in Paris and Eyes Wide Shut. Not only did its
borderline nonsensical third act completely derail this chance for greatness,
but all of the flaws that were once excusable just furthered Double Lover’s disappointment factor.
Still, I can’t ignore the fact that Double
Lover was still an exquisitely alluring experience that kept me watching.
Chloe (Marine Vacth) is a
troubled woman, struggling with intense stomach pains that are seemingly a
psychological product. She begins seeing a therapist by the name of Paul Meyer
(Jeremie Renier), a humble and soft-spoken fellow – when he speaks, anyway, as
he tends to let Chloe do all of the talking. Chloe expresses her joy in finding
somebody who actually lets her speak. After several appointments, they fall in
love and begin a relationship. Questionability arises. While traveling through
town, Chloe sees Paul with another woman. Perhaps an affair, perhaps just a
casual interaction, but Chloe is still disconcerted about what she saw.
She investigates, and she soon
finds herself in the office of Louis Delord (also Renier), another therapist
and Paul’s twin brother. She schedules an appointment (under the alias ‘Eva’),
but is practically turned away at the beginning of their meeting – Louis, who
is much more fearsome and blunt than his brother, calls Chloe out on her
insecurities and repression that prevents her from telling him the absolute
truth. She is flabbergasted by Louis’s audacity and swears to never see him
again…easier said than done, as that stern personality of Louis’s seems to
bring to light a chasm in her relationship with Paul.
Therapy is one of my most
despised, dare I say, scapegoats in film. They commonly serve as an excuse for
the filmmaker’s lack of artistic insight and imagination to vocalize a
character’s complex feelings. Double
Lover, on the other hand, makes unique and compelling use of Chloe’s
therapy sessions.
With no intentions of being a
downer, if I may bring to light one of my more pessimistic musings; I sometimes
wonder if romantic relationships are less a culmination of passionate love
between two people than a therapeutic means of coping with whatever troubles
bother both parties – after all, life seems to be a bit more bearable when
there’s somebody there to power through it with.
I mentioned how Chloe does
practically all of the talking in her therapy sessions. Subsequently, Paul just
seems kind of there and rarely provides input, like a pillow. I found myself
wondering what she would see in him. Then I wondered: do our loved ones exist
only as a means of consolation, and could mutual love continue without the need
for console? Then comes her turbulently sexual relationship with Louis: perhaps
as a means of reopening the chasm that was once closing – some sort of
masochism that exists within all of us (why is enough just never enough)?
And I stop the existential
inquiry/analysis there, because what matters is the movie. Questions and
thematic matter like this fascinate me like no other, and Double Lover brings these ideas to the screen so captivatingly. It
asks those questions without actually asking them, and I greatly admire that in
a movie. Equally captivating are the film’s exceptional score and
cinematography, as the film looks like something that belongs in a modern art
museum. No revolutionary ground as far as visuals go, it is still amazing
photography, and it makes for a compelling watch nonetheless.
There is some awkwardness here
and there in Double Lover, even when
it is good. Take, for instance, a scene where Paul and Chloe are making
passionate love. Due to some sort of disconnection of the moment, Chloe gazes
over to the side to see her beloved cat Milo staring at each other. This
lingers for a moment. It’s kind of funny, but the movie’s playing it straight
and trying to be thought-provoking (which makes it even funnier). Additionally,
there’s Louis: his words and actions are exactly what you’d find in a
dollar-store romance novel, not to mention Renier’s portrayal of the sexily bad
Louis is quite hammy. It’s as if the writer had all these great ideas for a
character (and they are great ideas), but can’t quite articulate them in a
unique way, so they resort to lesser means of conveyance that turn out to feel
cheap.
At first, these moments were
forgivable because at least the film was interesting and wasn’t bloated with
this awkwardness. But then Double Lover enters
its third act. There will most likely be much questioning from the viewer as to
whether this love triangle is real or a product of Chloe’s mental instability.
It’s almost like there were two different as to how this story should wrap up,
but the final product feels like the result of a bitter clash, as if there was
a bitter compromise between two different sides of writer/director Ozon’s mind.
It makes no sense, and not in a David Lynch kind of way.
I don’t know why, but there’s
something about this clunky third act that just makes the awkwardness and flaws
from before that were once excusable so much more intolerable, not to mention
that the film engages in a totally unnecessary subplot involving a bed-ridden
girl, and a hilariously cliché and melodramatic climax involving Chloe with a
pistol and a tight decision of who to shoot.
What a shame this is, to have
seen a potentially great film fall not only on its face, but so frustratingly
short. At the very least, it was fascinating while it lasted. I can’t exactly
say the film is worth it, but it’s at least not a tedious movie, and it
certainly gives a lot to think about when it’s over. Personally, I was
ultimately left thinking, dejectedly, how Double
Lover could have been better.
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