Director: Valérie Donzelli
Writer: Audrey Diwan, Valérie Donzelli, Éric Reinhardt
Stars: Virginie Efira, Melvil Poupard, Dominique Raymond
Synopsis: Follows Blanche Renard, who meets Greg Lamoureux and believes he is the one. However, she soon finds herself caught up in a toxic relationship with a possessive and dangerous man.
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t let me be a monster.” – Grégoire to Blanche
Valérie Donzelli directs and, with Audrey Diwan, adapts the novel “L’amour et les forêts.” Starring Virginie Efira in twin roles, Just the Two of Us flirts with heightened genre flourishes but pulls back to reveal a simple chilling reality: domestic abuse.
Blanche Renard is the white to her twin sister Rose’s red. Or at least that is how it appears on the surface. Blanche is the more cautious sister, the intellectual who teaches French literature. Rose is the for the moment party girl who has to cajole and convince Blanche to come to parties in the breezy summer of their hometown in Normandy.
At one of the parties Blanche is recognised by an old acquaintance, Grégoire Lamoureaux (Melvil Poupard) who hones in on her with a brash charm that disarms her. A well-dressed banker who once wanted to be a pilot, Grégoire sweeps Blanche off her feet. He insists he is her ‘perfect match’ and Blanche doesn’t doubt it as they dance together encircled by mutual desire. The halcyon blush of true romance colors Blanche’s cheeks and makes her bed a sanctuary where she and Grégoire discuss literature and make love.
Rose isn’t entirely convinced by Grégoire nor the speed the relationship develops. She genuinely wants Blanche to be happy but to be so completely consumed by another is accompanied in her mind by eventual loss such as their widowed mother faced with their beloved father. Unable to articulate her discomfort to Blanche, Rose finds herself being pushed to the side as Grégoire starts to undermine Blanche’s familial ties.
Soon, Blanche is pregnant and although she is unsure she wants to keep the fetus, Grégoire finds the idea of them as a family unit perfect. Small signs that he might be a little too possessive pass Blanche by as she readies herself for motherhood and an unexpected relocation from Normandy to Metz. Despite the literature she taught warning her that in Racine’s words which Grégoire repeats, ‘And I even loved the teardrops I made her shed,’ Blanche acquiesces to him repeatedly.
Grégoire is relentless with his manipulation leaving Blanche psychologically unanchored. In a small and cold town surrounded by woods, the mother of a small daughter and soon pregnant again Blanche isn’t precisely sure when she surrendered her autonomy or whether it was taken from her. Either way, even the smallest resistance to Grégoire’s routine and rules means an escalating barrage of recriminations. In a house with no doors on the bedrooms Blanche’s world is claustrophobic.
Even her teaching job in a nearby town is a threat to Grégoire. If she is celebrated for her intellectual skills, he feels emasculated. If she is seen by others, she is declaring herself apart from him. His possession of her and the children runs deep. A song sung in the van on the way to Metz, “I will love you until the day I die” is a more immediate promise than Blanche first realised.
The twist in Just the Two of Us is there is no twist. Told in segmented flashbacks to a lawyer, Blanche speaks of shame keeping her tethered to a situation that becomes increasingly deadly. Valérie Donzelli employs techniques to make the viewer feel inside Blanche’s reality. Laurent Tangy’s cinematography shifts hues – red for passion becomes in retrospect red for danger, but the greatest danger isn’t even given a color. It is the light in the kitchen in the morning. It is the flattened affect of slow suffocation. It is a bedroom, a bathroom, a phone screen, a view from a windscreen or a window.
The use of Racine, Moliere, and Flaubert is a touch on the overly symbolic side just as the target practice with Blanche’s one time lover is. What keeps these parabolic elements from becoming too affected is Virginie Efira’s performance. Efira wears the weight of over seven years with a man who has caused continual fight or flight exhaustion where neither action appears feasible. If she leaves, is she dooming her children and herself to a lifetime of looking over their shoulders? If she stays, will she have a lifetime at all? Efira is an actor for whom emotional and physical interpretations are intellectual and corporeal. Her attraction to Grégoire is carnal but not reckless. Blanche isn’t a fool, but she is fooled.
“I just want you to myself” are words used painted as romantic or committed. Rarely do people think of them as a warning that they are a possession, yet domestic violence, coercive control, and spousal abuse are epidemic. On average, in France, a woman is killed by her partner or ex-partner every three to four days.
Just the Two of Us is horrifying because it doesn’t stretch credibility or imagination. There is no ultimate revenge and no firm end. An everyday fight for survival which happens across class and cultural milieus. Virginie Efira and Valérie Donzelli force the audience to hold their breath and even as the credits roll it may be difficult to exhale.
