Director: Monia Chokri
Writer: Monia Chokri
Stars: Magalie Lépine-Blondeau, Pierre-Yves Cardinal, Micheline Lanctôt
Synopsis: Sophia’s life is turned upside down when she meets Sylvain. She comes from a wealthy family, while Sylvain comes from a family of manual workers. Sophia questions her own values after abandoning herself to her great romantic impulses.
There isn’t a single more extraordinary filmmaker working in Québec today than Monia Chokri (some will say Denis Villeneuve, but he’s out here making large-scale Hollywood blockbusters, so it may or may not count, depending on who you ask). Her first feature, A Brother’s Love (La femme de mon frère), is one of the most revelatory debuts this province has seen, perhaps since Villeneuve’s August 32nd on Earth (Un 32 août sur terre). And her sophomore feature, Babysitter, takes parts of A Brother’s Love’s anxiety-fueled ultra-absurd scenes and cranks it up to a thousand. For some, it was too much. For me, it was 88 glorious minutes I will gladly watch again (and again), and one of the boldest productions Québec has seen during this new decade.
Not even a year after Babysitter’s release, Chokri premiered her latest movie, The Nature of Love (Simple Comme Sylvain), at the Cannes International Film Festival – and now the film has finally hit our screens after months of anticipation. In this feature, Chokri dials down on the absurdity and instead offers a poignant, often lyrical, mediation on humanity’s desire to love. It may very well be the best film released in Québec this year, but it’s also one of the best dramedies of the year. Period.
If we want to analyze a director’s recurring motifs, Chokri’s fascination with philosophy is a good place to start. It plays a significant role in A Brother’s Love but is even more prominent in The Nature of Love. Heh, and the English titles for both films end with LOVE, and both main characters are named Sophia, who study/teach philosophy. In The Nature of Love, Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau), teaches a philosophy class for seniors focused on…love but has difficulty communicating with her partner, Xavier (Francis-William Rhéaume). The biggest visual sign that they aren’t in love is apparent from the beginning: the two don’t sleep in the same room, even if they tell themselves they love each other before bed.
Sophia has to go to the summer cottage to supervise its renovations, where she meets Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal), an independent construction worker with an outlook on life that feels so freeing for Sophia that they immediately lock arms and have sex. Of course, you probably know where the movie will go from there, but there’s something in Chokri’s picture that makes it stand out amongst the rest of most clichéd romantic comedies.
For instance, she teams up with cinematographer André Turpin (best known for his collaborations with Xavier Dolan) and gives the movie a visual palette that’s so unlike anything we’ve seen before, it’s almost indescribable. Some of the visual cues feel evident, splashes of Michel Brault, François Truffaut, Jacques Demy, John Cassavetes, and even shots that feel plucked out of Denis Héroux’s Valérie are found. Turpin frequently uses crash-zooms to enhance the intimacy, not only in Sophia and Sylvain’s relationship but in visually representing how the characters evolve as the movie continues to morph from light-hearted romantic comedy to absurd mumblecore, to then finish with an intimate drama examining not only “the nature of love,” but the nature of life itself.
How Chokri frames her actors is the key The Nature of Love holds. Some shots don’t feel as well-stitched together as others, particularly in a sequence where Sylvain and Sophia engage in primal screams, but that’s by design. There isn’t a single visual moment in this film that doesn’t feel important, whether it’s setting the locations or representing Sophia’s internal monologues, which the audience tries to examine as she sits alone outside, smoking a cigarette, only for the movie to interrupt her moments of solitude with an unexpected event, or character, appearing in the frame.
Even the background noise feels essential and enhances our understanding of the world Sophia inhabits (and Émile Sornin’s score is impeccable). Family conversations with the different parents she encounters throughout the film, whether her mother (Micheline Lanctôt), Sylvain’s (Linda Sorgini) or Xavier’s parents (Marie Ginette-Guay & Guy Thauvette), show different facets of the nature of love –and life: whether it’s heated family discussions at the dinner table (lord knows Quebecois love to talk loudly about anything and anyone) or brief, fleeting glimpses of a love that once existed, but is no longer there as disease progresses. It’s equal parts hilarious and devastating, striking a rare balance between comedy and drama that feels integral to how the film is shaped.
But it’s also bolstered by incredible acting – Lépine Blondeau gives the best performance of her career. She shares electric chemistry with Cardinal, who is equally charming and funny. The supporting cast is also excellent, with Chokri herself appearing alongside Babysitter’s Steve Laplante in some of the movie’s funnier – and more awkward – scenes. Without spoiling anything, one of the film’s final scenes is The Nature of Love’s most integral and encapsulates its entire message.
Everyone will have a different definition of what “The Nature of Love” is, and Chokri smartly leaves room for interpretation. Those who are expecting the same level of absurdity found in A Brother’s Love and Babysitter may be disappointed, but there’s no denying how massively ambitious this picture is, not only for Chokri’s incredible career as an artist but also for Québec cinema as a whole. It’s one of the funniest and most heartbreaking movies you’ll see all year, and it cements Chokri as one to watch as a daring auteur who never made the same film twice and will seemingly continue pushing the boundaries of what modern Québec cinema can – and should – be.
