“When you love someone, it never really goes away.” It sounds like a trite romantic homily in the mouth of Juliette Binoche’s Parisian radio journalist Sara, the emotional heart of Both Sides of the Blade. But this is a Claire Denis film, so we already know the tortuous erotic journey ahead is not going to be so smooth. Competing for big prizes at the Berlinale, this prickly contemporary chamber drama feels unusually sober and conventional for Denis, but the lead performances are world-class while the plot paints an agreeably nuanced portrait of unchained, unashamed female desire. Star names in conjunction with a classic French love-triangle plot may even score the veteran director one of her rare international breakout hits.
Conceived during the Covid lockdown, Both Sides of the Blade finds Denis working on a fairly modest domestic canvas with a team of regular collaborators including Binoche, co-star Vincent Lindon and novelist turned screenwriter Christina Angot. The script is based on Angot’s 2018 novel Un tournant de la vie, though the film’s French title is actually the more punchy Avec amour et acharnement, which loosely translates as “with love and relentlessness.”
After 10 years together, middle-aged couple Sara (Binoche) and Jean (Lindon) plainly still share a lusty, tactile, tender chemistry. Even so, she is thrown into emotional confusion by a chance street sighting of François (Gregoire Colin), the old flame she abandoned to be with Jean. A former rugby player with inner demons lurking just below his taciturn exterior, Jean’s back story includes elderly mother Nelly (Bulle Ogier) and teenage son Marcus (Issa Perica), both of whom he routinely neglects, plus a spell in prison for reasons Denis and Angot leave deliberately vague.
Soon after Sara’s random encounter, François contacts Jean with a work proposal, apparently by pure coincidence. As any lingering resentment between these former best friends over Sara’s wavering affections seems to have long since evaporated, she cautiously endorses Jean’s new career opportunity. But suspicion soon grows between the pair as Jean becomes increasingly evasive and secretive about his busy work schedule. Initially full of trepidation about meeting François again, Sara finally relents. Both shocked and delighted to discover that their old sexual spark remains, she is suddenly forced to choose between her old lover and the man she left him for.
Denis and Angot sprinkle this familiar menage-a-trois premise with teasing hints of psycho-thriller suspense, keeping viewers guessing about the real game at play. Is François orchestrating an elaborate con trick against both Sara and Jean, a dish of revenge served very cold indeed? Is Jean actually conspiring in this game for his own twisted motives? Is Sara the hunter or the prey here?
Both Sides of the Blade ultimately follows a more familiar trajectory than it seems to promise, with few killer secrets to reveal. But plot essentials are almost incidental, since this is chiefly a knockout boxing match between two French screen heavyweights at the peak of their powers. In her third collaboration with Denis, Binoche is totally comfortable under her gaze, radiating prickly anguish and raw desire as Sara in a vanity-free, intimate, frequently naked star turn. Lindon is also enjoying a midlife purple patch right now, with his recent run of powerhouse performances in Another World, Oscar contender Titane, and more. He gives another tightly wound study in repressed rage here, his grizzled frown and guarded body language hinting at deep reserves of shame and self-loathing.
The urbane, saturnine Colin is more of a slippery prospect, especially since Denis cannily makes François a shadowy phantom menace for the opening half of the film, finally allowing him to speak only after his erotically charged reunion with Sara. This smart piece of striptease choreography pays off when their affair crackles back into life, the reunited lovers instantly coming up against old power struggles. To the credit of cast and crew, François is presented as a sulky, sexually entitled narcissist, yet still irresistible to Sara. None of the protagonists in this bizarre love triangle win any medals for compassion or restraint, but nor are they wholly selfish either. Which feels pretty realistic, admirably non-judgmental, and oh so very French.
Filmed in a rainy, wintry, drab-looking Paris under Covid restrictions, Both Sides of the Blade acknowledges the pandemic with scenes featuring masks and checkpoints. The root of the story may be Angot’s novel but Denis, who was raised in colonial West Africa, layers her signature post-colonial concerns over the text. Her multi-racial cast includes actor-director Mati Diop (Atlantiques) in a small role, while Sara’s radio job makes space for music and non-fiction cameos from Francophone Africa and the Arab world, each touching on current affairs and global politics. These details provide interesting texture, but are largely incidental to the main plot. A rumbling, droning, string-heavy score by British indie-rock band Tindersticks, longtime musical collaborators with Denis, is mournfully effective but deployed too intrusively, often drowning out any room for emotional ambiguity.
Director: Claire Denis
Cast: Juliette Binoche, Vincent Lindon, Grégoire Colin, Issa Perica, Bulle Ogier, Mati Diop
Screenwriters: Christine Angot, Claire Denis
Cinematographer: Eric Gautier
Editing: Emmanuelle Pencalet, Sandie Bompar, Guy Lecorne
Producer: Olivier Delbosc
Music: Tindersticks
Production company: Curiosa Films (France)
Sales company: Wild Bunch
Venue: Berlin International Film Festival (Competition)
In French
116 minutes
