The LEGO Movie 2: The Second Part
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Double Lover offers kinky pleasures that should thrill fans of classic erotic cinema while adding some uniquely transgressive European twists.
All Critics (97)
| Top Critics (18)
| Fresh (68)
| Rotten (29)
What gives the film its surprising coherence is not only the fluidity of Ozon's technique but also his mastery of tone, the ease with which he applies serious craft to a resolutely un-serious endeavor.
For a film about identical-twin gynecologists who share a woman, David Cronenberg's Dead Ringers was awfully psychological. Conversely, for a film about identical-twin psychologists who share a woman, François Ozon's latest is awfully gynecological.
It does rely on certain Gallic attitudes toward women that don't travel well. Louis' psychiatric method could reasonably be described as sexual assault, and the notion that Chloe might be "hysterical" is at best archaic.
Francois Ozon's good twin/bad twin thriller puts dull Hollywood twaddle like Fifty Shades Freed to shame with its wild, wanton ride into the subconscious. Prepare for a mindblower.
It's a buffet of psychosexual delicacies, borrowed and otherwise, all staged with hot-blooded, straight-faced vigor.
It's like Dead Ringers meets Body Double with a kinky, winking full-frontal Gallic twist.
A Freudian would have a field day with the film's blatant symbolism (circular stairwells, stuffed cats, and so on), while the kinky eroticism could be a therapist's wet dream.
Everything falls apart completely at the final reveal, with a maddening twist cheapening the whole film immensely and rendering the story an even sillier exercise than it initially seems.
Double Lover is a great return to psychosexual territory that Ozon is known for and it is an entertainingly juicy time for erotica lovers.
With echoes of Cronenberg's Dead Ringers, Ozon has pieced together a compelling and highly entertaining puzzle piece.
If Double Lover had even one-eighth of the cinematic zest of one of Brian De Palma's Hitchcock knockoffs, this might have been more than a perverse diversion.
If you're not going to even try pulling a fast one on us, then why bother even make a psychosexual erotic thriller at all? Just put on a pot of tea and crack open the marmalade, why don't you?
Ozon concots a bizarre thriller that could have been easily made by Brian De Palma or Paul Verhoeven in the '80s, surprising us with the laughable absurdity of his situations yet failing to come up with a consistent payoff to match all the tension and curiosity evoked until then.
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