Review by
Benjamin Poole
Directed by: Monia Chokri
Starring: Magalie Lépine Blondea, Pierre-Yves Cardinal, Francis-William Rhéaume
Has there ever been a more accurate summary of the libido and its
unreasonable control over body, heart and mind than the deathless Kingsley
Amis aphorism which likened having a hard cock to being chained to an
idiot? As I write, a video of a screw (both in the sense of the
participant and the action) in HMP Wandsworth is blowing up (both in the
sense of, etc) on social media. I've seen it, you've seen it: of course we
have, because sex drives us. Not only the urge to have it, but our
(morbid?) curiosity about how other people have it, too. It is our
defining motivator, what "makes us want to live" (to quote a character
from The Nature of Love). From VHS then to Onlyfans now, the facilitation of pornography
catalyses our technology, perpetuating the fascination. Yet, by virtue of
necessity the hours upon available hours of pornography's easy fantasies
only focus upon the act(s) itself, and it is a rare film which explores
the ramifications of the little idiot and the wider ripples of its
mindless splashes. The Nature of Love, Monia Chokri's pseudo-intellectual rom/com is such an
exploration of desire, its grandstanding title perhaps a deliberate irony
as Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau) and Sylvain's (Pierre-Yves Cardinal) passionate affair is predicated upon a mutually hungry lust, not the
other four-letter L word. The Nature of Love asks if there
is a difference...
The film I think I hate more than any other made is that Steve McQueen
film where Michael Fassbender is a sex addict, and we're meant to think of
him having zipless fucks with random women and then (OH GOD NO) cottaging
in a gay club WITH A MAN is the worst thing in the world. This ridiculous
notion that sex is shameful, and desire a facet to be overcome, not
indulged. In The Nature of Love, Sophia's womanly desire for hunky workman Sylvain is acknowledged, and
you love to see female sexual longing front and centre (the reason for the
continued success of the godawful 50 Shades franchise - well
thumbed copies of the books still always present in charity shops - is the
canny catering towards a female sexuality within a cultural context where
patriarchal representations of sex dominate, I reckon). We open with
Sophia (hegemonically beautiful, aspirational) at a cookie cutter middle
class supper party with her husband Xavier, wherein the polite
conversation about issues (the death penalty, war) verges on the parodic.
So bougie are this pair that they have an extremely covetable new wood
cabin on a lake shore, upon which earthy contractor Sylvain (looks like
misunderstood filmmaker Eli Roth, if that's your thing) is working.
The connection between Sophia and Sylvain is immediately electric (as is
the chemistry between the two actors - the narrative's major selling
point), and a stark contrast to her safe but dull life with her present
partner. The appeal is couched in a sense of adventure, with Sylvain's
rugged nature a foil to Sophia's apparently staid world of art galleries
and university lectures. This guy - perpetually clad in a plaid jacket and
trucker cap - advocates primal screams and rails against modern life:
instead of communicating, we "eat, shop, go to the mall, buy a house, a
chalet." Alright, Tyler Durden! The film's binary coding of artificial
middle-class pleasures and the supposed authentic fun of the working class
is a broad stroke The Nature of Love doesn’t really recover
from, as, when the film continues to mine the theme during the affair,
neither we or the film can really figure out if the film is playing with
Chatterley/Mellor cliché or simply repeating it.
To wit, an accordion heavy Chanson Française soundtrack connotes cheeky
porn as Chokri treats us to montages of sex scenes, which, as well as
being convincingly hot, develop both characters; along with more staid,
soft focus date sequences (walks in the park, diner dinners). Her camera
is love struck, zooming in and pulling back with the dreamy energy of
Cupid's bow, expressing the dazed existence of her lusty heroine:
amusingly, within the diegesis Sophia becomes that boring friend who has
just embarked on a new relationship and thinks she's the only person who
has ever had sex. Still, we are largely meant to identify with her, and
especially when she argues with her fella about the working class. Xavier
calls them "douchebags," while Sophia protests their "noble hearts" and
"superior morals": cringe. Sylvain fits this projection like its his worn
cap. Sophia compliments his lack of vocabulary and he does the sort of
things which Xavier can't; like drive a Chevrolet, put up shelves, and, in
a moment where I actively began to dislike the film, use a gun to hunt
animals. Big fucking man, is it? Is this what female heterosexual fantasy
entails?!
Despite The Nature of Love's pretensions towards social satire, its depiction of romance and vivid
representations of sex are seductively escapist, a Mills and Boon index of
aspiration. The film excels when essaying the giddy ups and downs of a
fling, and the compellingly related agony of when the supply of what fuels
you gets cut off. But even this sequence is a prelude to rabidly enacted
make up sex, and more lux imagery. We end abruptly, with a chamber farce
scene which intones that this sort of relationship would never really
work, a revealingly conservative denouement which we are positioned to
agree with via its constructed comic context. Maybe hot sex isn't the most
essential opportunity life has to offer after all, the plot (which has
hitherto indulged in the visual pleasures of two objectively attractive
people going at it throughout) ultimately (and incorrectly) discloses.
Research reveals that the film's original French title translates to
"Simple as Sylvain", which is perhaps a more accurate appellation both as
a descriptor of the narrative and an indicator of its unpalatable class
ideologies. Its lip service towards social caricature doesn't marry with
the ultimately regressive message of The Nature of Love, which, to use a metaphor in keeping with the film's glorious leitmotif
of oral sex, tries to have its fanny and eat it.
The Nature of Love is on MUBI UK now.
