There’s something that feels almost charmingly retro about Chloé Robichaud’s “Two Women,” a French Canadian comedy premiering at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. It’s a “sex comedy” in the way that films from the 1960s and ’70s used to be called “sex comedies.” Perhaps slightly more explicit and definitely more feminist, but thoroughly goofy in its exploration of the proclivities of the title characters. Neil Simon would be proud.
So, despite its very modern exploration of female desire, there’s something creaky about “Two Women,” a nagging sense that “haven’t we been here already?” In a way, we have. “Two Women” is based on the 1970 Quebecois movie “Two Women in Gold,” just updated for the present day. In this version, Violette (Laurence Leboeuf) and Florence (Karine Gonthier-Hyndman) meet in the eco-friendly complex where they both live.
Violette is a new mom plagued by the sound of a crow. Perturbed by this noise but unable to locate an actual animal, she has determined that the bird sounds she is hearing are actually her neighbor having wild sex, taunting her. But when she confronts that neighbor, Florence, Florence explains, despondently, she and her partner aren’t having any sex at all. Violette’s complaint makes Florence face this grim reality. She decides to go off her antidepressants and get her libido back.
That she does in spectacular fashion, first making moves at a man who comes to install her cable, and then any other guy she brings into the apartment for some random renovation work. Soon enough, Violette starts getting inspired, putting down bait for an exterminator in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.
As Violette and Florence are sowing their proverbial oats, their male counterparts are going through some crises of their own. Violette’s husband Benoit (Félix Moati), a pharmaceutical rep, is having an affair with his goth coworker Éli (Juliette Gariépy, of new “Red Rooms” fame). Éli, who is truly using Benoit just for sex, is more curious about what’s going on with his wife than he is. A recurring gag involves Benoit going into a state of panic whenever Éli reveals something about Violette’s behavior to him.
Meanwhile, David (Mani Soleymanlou), Florence’s other half, is so worried about her going off her meds that he starts taking meds on his own, without a doctor’s consultation. He’s a sad figure, tending to his greenhouse and popping pills.
Robichaud’s camera has a deep love for her two heroines, Violette and Florence. Although they are both spiraling in their own way, she films them with care, often bathed in sunlight. And while the sex scenes are intentionally silly in their conceit, there’s also a genuine sexiness to them. Robichaud centers the experiences on female pleasure, acknowledging its intensity and its ridiculousness. For instance, Florence rides the cable guy until she orgasms. He is left stunned, and a little unfulfilled. It doesn’t matter.
But the screenplay by Catherine Léger is unfocused, and too reliant on topical buzzwords. (There’s a groan-worthy sequence about what it means to post “#MeToo” on Facebook.) While the sexual journeys of Violette and Florence are well-developed, their inner lives are not. Florence’s mental health is treated glibly, and her career as a translator is only briefly mentioned. As for Violette, we have little sense of what her life was like before her child arrived. She’s a thinly drawn ball of nerves.
Other characters float in and out of the narrative, their purposes frustratingly vague. Sophie Nélisse, best known for her work on “Yellowjackets,” appears as a young, hot resident in Violette and Florence’s complex. Her character is annoyingly self-righteous, but also very attractive and seemingly interested in David. Still, there’s ultimately no reason for her presence, despite the script teasing a greater calling.
Most aggravating is the way the film neatly resolves all of its conflicts for the end. Violette’s final choice doesn’t make sense in the context of everything she’s experienced over the course of the film, and Florence’s just manifests too quickly. It speaks to how underdeveloped all the characters are, especially the men, who get moments of growth that are all too fleeting.
However, Robichaud keeps the plot chugging, and engages her viewer with her gauzy images and her adoration for the performances by Leboeuf and Gonthier-Hyndman. The actresses are the film’s greatest asset, especially in their willingness to throw themselves whole-heartedly into the plot. Leboeuf has a doe-eyed grace that suddenly blossoms when she discovers her sense of pleasure. Gonthier-Hyndman approaches her task with a strategic glint in her eye. Pleasure is her goal and she’ll stop at nothing to get it.
And yet “Two Women” has nothing innovative to say about women’s desire at this moment in time. It feels like it might have been revelatory 10 years ago, but now women deserve more. Sure, sex is good, but it’s not enough.
Grade: B-
“Two Women” premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. It is currently seeking U.S. distribution.
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