Polarizing psycho-sexual thriller (with one twist too many) from François Ozon, the preternaturally gifted French filmmaker who tends to overthink his projects to the point of collapse. Not this one, it collapses from under-thinking. Marine Vacht, another rail thin Parisian ingenue, is seeing hunky, young shrink Jérémie Renier to still her psychologically induced tummy troubles. But as she gets better, he stops treatment for love and moves in with her . . . and a cat who goes missing. That’s when she spots his secret identical twin psychologist brother on the street and is soon involved in a second affair, one with a sado-masochistic flair. (Tussle-haired Renier to calm her down and combed back Renier to tussle with!) But Ozon tosses in so many scenes that turn out to be either dreams or mirrored doppelgänger sightings, he’s like the boy who cried wolf. You stop caring since it's likely as not imaginary. Eventually, all the parties get wise to each other and fight for supremacy with Vacht off hunting for Renier’s past in the person of Jacqueline Bisset who knows the score from a parent’s P.O.V. And Ozon has one more rug to pull out from under you. One rug too many. There’s a visual pop to some of the doubleback ideas that gives the film a bit of ‘wayback machine’ Brian De Palma pizzazz, plus an unhealthy dose of ROSEMARY’S BABY. Too much or not enough?
SCREWY THOUGHT OF THE DAY: Maybe Ozon needs to be forced to make a film he thinks he doesn’t want to do. Anything to rebalance his act. He’s got too much talent to waste it like this.
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