52 Films by Women Vol 8. 50. Simple Comme Sylvain (The Nature of Love) (Director: Monia Chokri)

 

Pictured: 'Carpenter ants! I hate those guys.' Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal, right) makes an assessment to an increasingly distraught Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau, gauche) in the French-Canadian romantic comedy, 'Simple Comme Sylvain', written and directed by Monia Chokri. Still courtesy of Music Box Films (US)

French Canadian cinema exhibits a curious insularity. French language films made on the American continent quoting French philosophers while exhibiting Catholicism, they exist in a proud bubble. I struggle to name cast members of the films of Denys Arcand and Robert Lepage. The films don’t travel, as if unclaimed luggage on an airport carousel bearing quotes from Diderot and Jean-Jacques Rousseau instead of name tags. French Canadian cinema didn’t refuse to sit on the back of the bus. It would rather walk.

Actor-writer-director Monia Chokri’s second film, Simple Comme Sylvain, embraces the bubble. Filmed in the style of a 1970s movie, complete with slow zooms, soft focus lighting and sharp cuts, it is a love story between Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau), an intellectual who lectures senior citizens on the nature of love (‘amour, desire, manque’, she writes on a blackboard) and Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal), a chipper chippie, an independent contractor who repairs old buildings to a high standard, innuendo absolutely invited. When he outlines the work that Sophie and her partner Xavier (Francis-William Rhéaume) need on their country chalet, purchased for 770,000 Canadian dollars and built in 1942, she bursts into tears. I asked myself, who built chalets while America was fighting the Nazis? Didn’t they think about the war?

Xavier isn’t there to hear Sylvain’s anti-sales pitch. He’s at a conference in Ottawa. I don’t know what he does for a living, but it involves fine wine and no doubt a government subsidy. At any rate, having broken the bad news about the amount of work required, Sylvain takes Sophia for a drink. In the real world, a tradesman who offers a customer alcohol before the deal is signed isn’t trustworthy. He’s trying to get me drunk, no? Sylvain appears to be sincere. ‘I’ll make a deal,’ he says in the chalet after pointing out the carpenter ants – cue Sophia’s nervous breakdown. It isn’t long before he receives the vote of support from the bar staff. ‘Sylvain hasn’t had much luck in love,’ Sophia is told. ‘The women are all gorgeous but turn out to be crazy.’ Surely, this is another red flag.

It isn’t long before Sylvain is kissing Sophia by the chalet door. Sophia invites him inside, Chokri’s camera staying outside as the light is switched on and they continue their embrace. But then Chokri switches to an interior shot bringing us closer to the disrobing, in a semi-tasteful style, of the actors. Sophia isn’t shown naked; Chokri shows us the ecstasy on her face as Sylvain works (off screen) with his tongue. 

Pictured: Nose play on the dance floor. Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau, left) and Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal) embrace in a scene from writer-director Monia Chokri's French-Canadian romantic comedy, 'Simple Comme Sylvain'. Still courtesy of Music Box Films (US)

Oh Sylvain, you probably think this song is about you. In the bar, before the buffet, as it were, Sophia asks for the music to be turned up. She recalls dancing as a young girl with a tall twelve-year-old. She translates the lyrics for Sylvain. ‘You’re my intellectual,’ he tells her at one point, a comment curiously unchallenged. Does that mean that he’s adding her to a list?

We understand that Sophia does not want children.  We understand why. The opening features cartoons on television while two young girls and a boy are raucously playing. Meanwhile the adults at the table are all drinking wine and talking at cross-purposes. Sophia is the still centre surrounded by competing literary references. A small girl brings her two hearts linked together – a present. Sophia is charmed. A single woman joins them, wearing her hair in pageboy fashion. In their apartment, Sophia asks Xavier if he would sleep with her if he was the last man on Earth. ‘I wouldn’t be the last man on Earth,’ he deflects, the pair sleeping in separate beds in adjacent rooms. ‘That would be someone who does cross-fit.’ Pressed, he concedes, ‘yes I would.’

While Xavier is away, his elderly parents (Marie-Ginette Guay, Guy Thauvette) turn up unannounced bearing lasagne. Xavier’s mother confesses to being a bad cook. She is anxious about her husband. ‘He forgot my name yesterday,’ she tells Sophia, adding, ‘you’re like a daughter to me.’ Chokri cuts to Xavier’s father looking distracted. She gives us no scenes of Xavier expressing his concern, talking to his mother about her opinions as his father mentally declines. Like I said, these characters exist in a bubble. I doubt if the 18^th Century philosopher and art critic Denis Diderot referenced in the film concerned himself with the Alzheimer’s of his day.

We don’t see much woodwork, in the accepted sense, as Sophia and Sylvain spend more time together. Isn’t his quotation going up as the work is prolonged? Sophia does tell her mother (Micheline Lanctôt) about the affair. Her mother is unconcerned. In one shot, Chokri shows Sophia’s mother as a shock of grey hair, viewed from behind, as if Sophia were looking at her future; Xavier’s parents present another future. For Sophia, the present is everything.

Aesthetically, Chokri both pays homage to soft porn and reacts to it. There are a few scenes when Sophia is shown in her underwear and one scene, when Sylvain buys her pink underwear, which is an aesthetic no-no. Pink lingerie does not suit pale-skinned women. No wonder Sylvain’s former dates went crazy.

Pictured: Where do I put them? Sophia (Magalie Lépine Blondeau) in a scene from Monia Chokri's French Canadian romantic comedy, 'Simple Comme Sylvain'. Still courtesy of Music Box Films (US)

The drama follows predictable lines. Sophia tells Xavier. ‘I think I’ve met someone.’ ‘Have you?’ he asks. Sophia confirms, ‘I’ve met someone.’ In French-speaking Canada, it is expected that someone in a serious relationship takes a lover. Sophia pursues her passion with a rigorous, if not cost effective, honour. She leaves Xavier and moves into a smaller apartment. Visiting, Sylvain brings her a bookcase ‘for her books’. It is offensively small. The scene descends into a row. ‘Give me your phone,’ demands Sylvian, scouring her search history. He spies a dog collar with a lead. ‘It is for you, mon amour, only for you,’ pleads Sophia. ‘I wanted to try new things.’ Would that be a dalmatian? Later, Sophia tries to put up Sylvain’s flat-warming gift but one of the shelves tips down.

Before the relationship goes sour, Sophia is introduced to Sylvain’s brother, Kevin (Mathieu Baron), Kevin’s wife, Josephine (Lubna Playoust) and Sylvain’s eager to please mother, Guylane (Linda Sorgini), who pours rose wine from a twist-off bottle – quelle horreur. Sophia grimaces with every sip. The metal twist cap even has a flower on it, as if to underline its crudity. The adults – minus Sylvain’s mother – go to a bar where Sophia observes Sylvain dancing with his cousin. ‘That’s a loose term, cousin, around here,’ she tells Sylvain. While out for a cigarette – Sophia restarts smoking after she falls for Sylvain, an indication of her embrace of the illicit (please groan, I did) – she meets the curvy Vanessa (Johanna Toretto), who vapes. ‘I’m his lover,’ Sophia asserts, marking her territory. ‘I know, not that we can tell,’ Vanessa replies, indicating that Sophia is more tentative in company amongst blue collar workers.

After the break with Sylvain, Sophia takes another lover, then reconnects with Xavier before she and Sylvain get back together. There are a lot of unanswered phone messages. In one scene, Sophia talks to Xavier’s friend, Françoise (Monia Chokri in a small supporting role) who appears to be in a lovely home. The joke is that the pair are sitting on a department store sofa. It’s a gag that almost passes you by, so out of keeping it is with the rest of the film.

The climax is Sophia’s birthday party. This time, Sylvain meets Sophia’s friends as well as her brother, who has a date, Camélia (Karelle Tremblay), ‘like our Lady of Camellias,’ she adds for emphasis. She has a tattoo, ‘1996’ above her left eye, and the word ‘truth’ tattooed under her right eye. ‘1996. Is that your birthday?’ Sophia asks. ‘No,’ Camélia replies, ending the conversation, as if offended that Sophia doesn’t understand its significance. Neither do we. Sylvain trades in his check shirts for a short-sleeved blue number with streaky vertical lines, a design not out of place on a shower curtain. (Kudos to the costumier.) As a present, he gives Sophia a piece of paper. It’s a travel booking to the Dominican Republic. Sophia’s haute couture guests are unimpressed. ‘Dominican Republic? I’ve been there. It’s so trashy.’  Then while Sophia is wearing washing up gloves, Sylvain bends down on one knee and offers her a ring. Sophia struggles to take of the rubber glove. The guests start filming. When someone starts vomiting. Françoise asks Sophia to pause her reply, rushing to the bathroom. ‘Instagramming food. Noone cares,’ is one comment. Eventually the rubber glove comes off.

Can Sophia really make the relationship work. The answer is obvious when she opens Sylvain’s glove compartment and sees his little box of Corn Flakes, which she finds earlier. Sylvain fills the tank. Snow falls. The car moves away. We have our answer.

Blondeau channels her inner Jacqueline Bisset or Jacklyn Smith in the leading role. We fully understand the appeal of Cardinal’s Sylvain, who is sensitive, though tested on the subject of the death penalty at Sophia’s birthday party. We understand that their class difference means that neither can hold their own in each other’s world. Desire exists, but so does comfort, and that finally determines the fate of the yearning bourgeoisie. The audience hoped for a happier ending, but the insularity must be protected, non?

Reviewed at Curzon Bloomsbury, Central London, Friday 12 July 2024, and on Mubi Streaming Service, Sunday 3 November 2024