‘The Nature Of Love’: Cannes Review

Dir/scr: Monia Chokri. Canada, France. 2023. 111 mins.

Forty-year-old philosophy lecturer Sophia (Magalie Lépine-Blondeau) is an expert on love. She can effortlessly wield quotes from Plato and Schopenhauer, among others, on the subject. She is happily married in an amicable, if passionless relationship with fellow intellectual Xavier (Francis-William Rhéaume). But her theoretical and analytical grounding in matters of the heart hasn’t prepared her for the instant, electrical connection she experiences when she meets Sylvain (Pierre-Yves Cardinal), the rugged building contractor she and Xavier have retained to renovate their new lake cabin. It’s a story setup that wouldn’t be out of place in an airport novel, and Monia Chokri has plenty of fun with it, acknowledging the potential cheesiness of the story with corny score choices, montages and exaggerated zooms. But in fact, this Quebecois romantic comedy is as sharp and perceptive as it is funny. 

Combines cynical smarts and deceptively light handling of some undeniably mature themes 

A deft, sexy and slightly spiteful examination of romantic passion in a real-world environment, The Nature of Love should seduce buyers and audiences alike. It’s the third feature from actress-turned-director Chokri, who also appears in the film, delivering a savage and amusing performance in the supporting role of Sophia’s best friend, Françoise. The Nature of Love marks a return to Cannes for Chokri: her debut picture, A Brother’s Love, premiered in Un Certain Regard in 2019, where it won the Coup de Cœur. Her second feature, Babysitter, premiered in Sundance in 2022.

There’s much to recommend the film, but the writing, in particular is first-rate: it establishes a rattling screwball-style dialogue pace early on, and combines cynical smarts and deceptively light handling of some undeniably mature themes – what happens to love, for example, when your partner is hollowed out by dementia? Does a sexual connection have a sell-by date? There’s a kinship, in the film’s clear-eye gaze at mismatched romance, with Nicole Holofcener’s Enough Said.

The driving force of any romcom is the chemistry between the leads. And with the crackling connection between Lépine-Blondeau and Cardinal, the picture has struck gold. It’s a potent, very physical and overwhelming passion, one that is consummated in some of the more enthusiastic and persuasive screen sex of recent years. Sophia and Sylvain are on the same physical wavelength, even if it becomes clear that their frames of reference could barely be further apart. Sylvain quotes a few lines of post-coital poetry. Rimbaud? breathes Sophia, wincing very slightly when he attributes the line to famed xenophobe Michel Sardou instead.

Words matter to Sophia, and when Sylvain is sloppy in choosing them, she can’t help but correct him. “His intelligence is earthier,” she explains to Françoise. “Concrete.” It sounds suspiciously as though she’s apologising for him.

Chokri’s instinct for the rhythms of the story – both comedic and dramatic – is finely tuned, and supported by the picture’s slick and witty editing. Elsewhere, the tech credits are equally good. The lively photography is peppered with teasing reflections and double images of Sophia: she is, after all, a woman pulled in two directions: between the mind and the heart; the desiccated intellectual stimulation of Xavier, or handyman Sylvain’s versatile skill set, horrible shirts and accidental racism. Decisions, decisions.