TWO LOVERS is a little self-indulgent

By Peter Willis /

Part of me inevitably gravitates towards the opinion that what Joaquin Phoenix did next will painfully overshadow this particularly good film. A shame as well, because this is the first time in a long while that I have actually believed Phoenix deserves any of the many plaudits he's steadily picked up since stepping out of the shadow that was cruelly robbed of us when his brother died. No doubt Phoenix's true motivations will be made clear soon enough (as if anyone is still fooled) but long after the beard lies forlornly shone in the basin of his sink, the intellect behind the intention will be questioned. If, as suspected, Phoenix is merely frolicking in the well-trodden ground that used to be Andy Kaufman's favourite haunt, I would have to wonder why he felt the need to do it, unless an uber-post-comic documentary arrives purporting to chronicle the much vaunted "real story" behind the revelation. Wouldn't that be the ultimate comment on our celebrity-obsessed cultures? A true punk on the Heat/Us Today generations. But, Oh God, what if he's being serious- and as long as there is the thinnest of suggestion shall be burdened with this particular fear? Anyway, on to the business of reviewing. First off, always nice to offer the cinematic review. So here it is. I must echo some of the sentiment- Two Lovers is somewhat of a slurry of raw emotion for sure, but I think Mike might have been a little over zealous with his critical eye that day. As a character piece Two Lovers works well- the portraits of the three central figures, lead admittedly well by Phoenix as Leonard, are impeccably drawn, and the dynamic between the torn man and his two choices, one endorsed by his parents the other the complete opposite is the best part of the film. To his credit, Phoenix plays the tortured soul well- he has one of those faces that looks pathetic and vulnerable even when he is playing a tyrant (hence his success as Gladiator€™s tortured nemesis and as tortured Johnny Cash). From his first suicidal scene, Leonard€™s torment is captured well enough to be utterly believable and compelling, largely thanks to the way James Gray changes the pallet of the scene to reflect his main character€™s mood, but I€™m with Mike Edwards when he says his psychological condition, though presented as morbid depression (hence the watery opening), is little more than bi-polarism (which is not to undermine the importance of that condition). While the film wants us to believe Leonard€™s psychological torment, the context plays against the intention- Leonard€™s struggle is supposed to be internal and mental (why else would we be immediately confronted with the image of aborted suicide?), but the central premise of the film- the dilemma between the angel on one shoulder (Sandra) and the devil on the other (Michelle) undermines it somewhat. This is a film about a fork in the road, about the choice between a bad but liberating relationship or a wholesome, but probably stifling one, and Leonard€™s own psychological condition becomes an afterthought in the shadow of his romantic entanglement. If the film wanted to make a comment about psychological turmoil it may well have been better served to do it without the love triangle situation that shifts focus away. The one problem i had with the central triumverate of characters was believing Gwyneth Paltrow as the anti-heroine: the bad choice of the two lovers. To be confronted with Paltrow playing a self-destructive, drug addled, emotional mess within the greater context of her career to date is a rather jarring experience. Though it is often the most atypical roles that sparkle in an actor€™s career, I found it uncomfortable having to wrestle the wholesome image of Paltrow as the Immaculate Innocent figure she usually plays out of my mind. Had she been the parentally-endorsed choice, Sandra, I may well have accepted it seamlessly, but as it is, seeing her in this new guise left a wierd and not particularly pleasant aftertaste. But this film, like the post-release hype, is about one man alone. I've been harsh when it comes to Joaquin Phoenix in the past, but even I have to admit he plays his part in Two Lovers better than I could imagine anyone else could, serving up a believable portrait of a tortured man caught in a tumultuous romantic situation. He is the embodiment of James Gray's favoured emotionally charged pallet- I said Gray manipulates the pallet of his shots to reflect the emotional state of his leading character, perhaps it is more appropriate to include Phoenix as a facet of that pallet, so integral is he to the creation of an emotional framework for his scenes. As with We Own The Night (one of Phoenix's better performances in my opinion) Gray knows exactly how and when to use Phoenix's hyper-charged vulnerability to best effect, and while the actor attempts to make himself as impenetrably, destructively alienated as possible with his beardy stunt, Gray manages the seemingly impossible in painting his character's condition in such a way that we all believe. And then he goes and spoils it all by saying something stupid like "I'm retiring to focus on my music". The twat.

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