I was a massive fan of Ducournau’s last film, Raw, the story of a young veterinary student who finds herself going off the rails after a hazing incident. It was her debut feature film, though she’d worked in the short film form and also on television already, and it was an audacious and relentless film, utterly assured and absolutely visionary. It’s one of only two films I’ve ever seen to make me literally gag and, look, I’m not sure that gagging is an emotional response exactly, but it’s, you know, what it is. Ducournau’s a filmmaker that goes after the uncomfortable experience; she wants to shock you, I think, and it’s rare that a filmmaker that wants to shock is able to also produce stand-up works of art. They tend, I think, to usually just lose the artistry as they chase the visceral reaction and they end up creating something that’s merely gross, not genuinely disturbing or unsettling. Ducournau is not in that class; she’s working at the level of the artist.
So, I was excited to see her sophomore feature, Titane. I wanted to go in knowing nothing, much as I went into Raw, and I succeeded, avoiding all the trailers and even the most basic plot synopses. Having now seen a few of those loglines, I don’t know that such a thing was exactly necessary; the loglines are pretty obtuse. So, no spoilers from me; this is definitely a movie to go into knowing as little as possible. The film opens with a pretty jarring scene of a car accident that leads to a young girl having a titanium plate put in her skull, which leaves her with an unsettling, spiraling scar just behind her ear; we then flash forward several years and the young girl is now a young woman, played by Agathe Rousselle, making her feature film debut, who models at car shows, performing sexually charged dances with the cars as her “partners.” These performances are in stark contrast to her generally androgynous look and carriage; in her “real” life she slouches about in baggy shirts and shorts like a petulant teenager. Soon enough, her erratic path takes her into the life of an aging fireman, played by veteran French actor Vincent Lindon, battling his aging body with steroids and rage. The relationship that forms between the two is . . . unconventional.
Of course, everything about the film is as well. There are elements of a thriller in the plotting and in some of the scenes; it’s also a horror movie in the same ways that Raw was and, in fact, it substantially ups the ante on Raw in terms of the violence it clinically depicts. Stylistically, Ducournau is still working hard to disorient and overwhelm the viewer; she may be an “arthouse” director, whatever that even means these days, but her films really demand to be seen in a theater with the biggest screen possible. Some arthouse movies work as well at home as they do in the theater, but Ducournau is going for sensory overload with music, colors, camera moves, sound design and you need to see her movies in the theaters for the full effect. And Ducournau is still all about just creating discomfort in the audience by pushing taboo buttons that we might not have even been aware we had and this film excels in those moments.
This is a movie that, overall, I’m still, days after seeing it, still having an unsettled reaction to. It isn’t the immediate, visceral masterpiece that Raw was and it is a more difficult film in many ways. There are certainly some flaws here that I can’t really handwave. There’s one supporting character in particular that seemed really interesting, but the movie sidelined him in a disappointing way; I definitely feel like the movie whiffed on that character. And I certainly struggled to connect to Alexia, the film’s main character; I think Rousselle gives a really excellent performance and that Alexia’s emotional distance from the audience is intentional. Ducournau wants her to be a cipher, I think, and the movie works on that level, but there were certainly moments when I felt like I needed to know what Alexia is thinking or feeling. But both the script and Rousselle want us to wonder, I think, and not to know; there’s a solid thirty minutes of this movie where I think Rousselle doesn’t speak a single word. To call it a locked down performance is an understatement. But it isn’t the flat performance of a newcomer; there are depths in Rousselle’s eyes and there’s a troubled frown that she defaults to in moments of uncertainty or emotion that I found really compelling. We don’t know exactly what she’s thinking or what she wants, but we understand that she’s suffering. As a debut performance, it’s really quite astonishing and I did ultimately find myself emotionally moved. Vincent Lindon’s performance is more emotionally open and equally excellent. There’s a raw woundedness to his character that he carries at every moment. And, if you’re a Raw fan like me, you’ll be glad to see Garance Marillier appear in a small role here. Her character is even named Justine, just like her character in Raw, so if you want to head-cannon your way into this being the same character, be my guest. **** off, Detective Comics, I’ve just found the DCU I really want: Ducournau Cinematic Universe. Though, to be serious, I don’t think the Justine from Raw would have . . . um, no spoilers, anyway, I don’t think they’re the same character.
Titane is ultimately a movie about trauma, I think, both physical and mental. When our two main characters come together, they’re both reeling from the trauma they’ve suffered, be that the head injury Alexia received at a young age (which, by the by, is linked to sociopathy in the real world, as it is in the film) or family tragedies that Vincent has suffered. And as the film progresses we watch as both of their bodies deteriorate. Vincent’s body is the unsettling body of an old man that has abused steroids and Alexia (not really a spoiler) becomes pregnant. I think at least one thing Ducournau is interested in here is specifically the trauma pregnancy wreaks on the body; we see Alexia naked repeatedly in this film and the scars and wounds she accrues as the film goes on are cringe-inducing. And the chameleon-like nature of Alexia has a lot of people wondering exactly Ducournau is saying about trans issues; I certainly suspect she is saying something, but I can’t be sure exactly what. Alexia, ultimately, is a transformer, in more ways than one; if you’ve seen the film, you’ll understand why that’s a bit of a joke – and why it’s also not. In ways both literal and metaphorical, this is a movie about human adaptation to trauma and horror and where that can take us; not really to redemption in Ducournau’s vision, but to . . . something. The ending is reminiscent of Raw’s ending to me in the way that it signals that, while redemption may not be at hand, survival is and the endings of both films are in something approximating equal measure both horrifying and hopeful.
At the end of the day, this movie is a bit scattered and I feel like the script could have used maybe one more pass, not to change anything massive, but to just tighten up a few things. But it’s certainly a horrifying, compelling, disturbing film that’s like nothing else you’ve seen recently (or maybe ever). Ducournau remains a visionary and I think the strength of that vision as well as those magnificent performances really papered over any serious problems I might have had with the film. It’s a bit of a step-down from Raw, I think, but it’s still an incredibly successful movie and one that, as I said above, days later I’m still wrestling with. I’m still not entirely sure what Ducournau is up to, but she’s up to something and I’m down for it. 4 stars.
tl;dr – visionary director’s second film is more emotionally distant than her debut; brilliant performances, an overwhelming aesthetic & a story packed with thought-provoking ideas. 4 stars.