Two Women

Two Women, for all its entertainment value, is silly and shallow, though deeper than porn, it must be said.

Two Women showcases the rampaging wit of expert writing with the jaw-dropping technique of expert directing.

Its reflections on modern relationships are engagingly comical, cynical and ultimately tender.

Two Women is a titillating, vibrant send-up of societal expectations that goes down easy despite its brashness. (See: Violette’s farcical misinterpretation of the #MeToo hashtag.) It’s strongest when leaning hard into hedonism, but even a distracted narrative can’t bring this frothy flick down.

Director Chloé Robichaud's fourth feature film is a fun and sexy romp that discusses infidelity, marriage, and being a mother in our modern age.

While the performances are memorable (Gonthier-Hyndman especially), there is an indifference in the writing, particularly around Florence’s mental health, that feels off-putting while impersonating compassionate comedy. Here and there, some gags work, but one is liable to emerge from the whole exercise feeling weary rather than liberated.

The best that can be said for Robichaud’s film is that her two leads, Karine Gonthier-Hyndman and Laurence Leboeuf, give committed performances