"Both Sides of the Blade" - Film Review
Both Sides of the Blade opens with Sara (Juliette Binoche) and Jean (Vincent Lindon) floating in the calming waves of the ocean as a melancholic score accompanies them. Despite this peaceful beginning, the audience can’t help but feel there’s something brewing on the horizon. The water Sara and Jean are bobbing in may be crystal clear and they may look like two happy people enjoying one another, but there’s a darkness lurking just below the surface.
Sara and Jean have built a life together in the ten years they’ve shared an apartment. They met when Jean was married to his now ex-wife and Sara was dating a man named François (Grégoire Colin). Not only was François dating Sara, he and Jean were best friends. The three of them had a falling out about 10 years ago, but François calls Jean out of the blue with a business opportunity. Jean assures Sara that this new partnership will be simple, but things quickly spiral out of control. François’ return stirs up feelings new and old, and irrevocably alters the lives of these three old friends.
Courtesy of Curiosa Films. An IFC Films release.
Director Clare Denis has created an often-too-painful depiction of the uncertain world we’re living in today. At first, the feeling of unease seems to be related to the characters’ experiences with Covid-19. The prevalence of masks, hand sanitizer, and checkpoints are an all too familiar reality, and the stark images of the busy streets of Paris filled with masked pedestrians are a bit of a shock. Having avoided most fictionalizations of the pandemic, to see how fundamentally our reality has been altered reflected so plainly in a film was unnerving.
The isolation of the pandemic and the alteration of society’s day-to-day functions have led many people to take the time to reconsider many of the decisions they’ve made. The past few years have forced a reckoning with time and the way we spend it. Isolation and a focus on the past, when life was simple, normal, and ordinary are central themes of Both Sides of the Blade. It’s difficult to imagine this film without the pandemic because it adds an aching desire for things to be how they were at the risk of ruining how they are. It demonstrates the sort of reckless emotional thinking that comes to people when they’re stuck staring at the same four walls day in and day out.
Courtesy of Curiosa Films. An IFC Films release.
For most of the movie, François is just a shadowy figure. He meets with Jean on street corners and on rugby fields, and the camera offers only small glimpses of his features to start. François’ presence oozes into every scene because of the history he, Sara, and Jean share. Even his name holds weight, and his impact on the lives of Sara and Jean is an elephant in the room. It’s really quite masterful that François’ physical presence is virtually nonexistent, yet so powerful in its impact on the other characters. Jean, François, and Sara, despite their shared history, do not share a single scene or conversation.
The presence of François creates a chasm between Sara and Jean that makes the audience wonder if it has been there all along. Despite their seemingly perfect coexistence and the charming life they share in that apartment, perhaps their relationship was already beyond repair without François’ return. Perhaps it was easier to hide when not face-to-face with someone who knew you so well. It’s different when the potential for them to have meaning in your life once again is no longer in the hypothetical.
Both Sides of the Blade plays on the ideas of freedom. Emotional, physical, and romantic freedoms. The things we allow ourselves to want and the ways other aspects are locked away. The film makes the case that most aspects of life involve a person making a choice. To simply let people and events happen to you is not freedom. There comes a time when a choice must be made regarding the important things of life. Not deciding is as much of a choice as believing in something wholeheartedly. It’s a lesson Both Sides of the Blade masterfully imparts thanks to Christine Angot and Denis’ script.
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