There is something that feels almost charmingly retro about Chloé Robichauds”Two women,” a French Canadian comedy that premiered at this year’s Sundance Film Festival. It’s a “sex comedy” in the way that films from the 1960s and 70s used to be called “sex comedies”. Perhaps slightly more explicit and definitely more feminist, but consistently goofy in its exploration of the titular characters’ proclivities. Neil Simon would be proud.
So, despite its very modern exploration of female desire, there’s something creaky about “Two Women,” a nagging sense of “haven’t we been here already?” In a way, we have. “Two Women” is based on the Quebecois film “Two Women in Gold” from 1970, just updated for today. In this version, Violette (Laurence Leboeuf) and Florence (Karine Gonthier-Hyndman) meet in the eco-friendly complex where they both live.
Violette is a new mother who is tormented by the sound of a crow. Disturbed by this sound but unable to locate an actual animal, she has decided that the bird sounds she hears are actually her neighbor having wild sex and taunting her. But when she confronts that neighbor, Florence, Florence explains, in despair, that she and her partner are not having sex at all. Violette’s complaint makes Florence face this grim reality. She decides to get off her antidepressants and get her libido back.
She does so in spectacular fashion, first making moves at a man who comes to install her cable, and then some other guy she brings into the apartment for some random renovation work. Soon enough, Violette becomes inspired and lays down bait for an exterminator in more ways than one, if you catch my drift.
As Violette and Florence sow their proverbial oats, their male counterparts go through some crises of their own. Violette’s husband Benoit (Félix Moati), a pharmaceutical representative, has an affair with his goth colleague Éli (Juliette Gariépy, of new “Red Rooms” fame). Éli, who really only uses Benoit for sex, is more curious about what’s going on with his wife than he is. A recurring gag involves Benoit panicking whenever Éli reveals something about Violette’s behavior to him.
Meanwhile, David (Mani Soleymanlou), Florence’s other half, is so worried about her going off her medication that he starts taking medication on his own, without a doctor’s consultation. He is a sad figure tending to his greenhouse and taking pills.
Robichaud’s camera has a deep love for her two heroines, Violette and Florence. Although they both spiral in their own way, she films them with care, often bathed in sunlight. And while the sex scenes are intentionally silly in their conceit, there’s also a genuine sexiness to them. Robichaud centers the experiences on female pleasure, acknowledging its intensity and its ridiculousness. For example, Florence rides the cable guy until she orgasms. He is left shocked and a little unfulfilled. It doesn’t matter.
But the script by Catherine Léger is unfocused and too dependent on current buzzwords. (There’s a groan-worthy sequence about what it means to post “#MeToo” on Facebook.) While Violette and Florence’s sexual journeys are well-developed, their inner lives are not. Florence’s mental health is handled lightly, and her career as a translator is only briefly mentioned. As for Violette, we have little idea of what her life was like before her child arrived. She is a thinly drawn ball of nerves.
Other characters float in and out of the story, their purposes frustratingly vague. Sophie Nélisse, best known for her work on “Yellowjackets”, appears as a young, hot resident of Violette and Florence’s complex. Her character is annoyingly self-righteous, but also very attractive and seemingly interested in David. Yet there is ultimately no reason for her presence, despite the script teasing a larger call.
Most aggravating is how the film neatly resolves all its conflicts until the end. Violette’s final choice doesn’t make sense in the context of everything she’s experienced over the course of the film, and Florence’s is simply revealed too quickly. It speaks to how underdeveloped all the characters are, especially the men, who get moments of growth that are all too fleeting.
But Robichaud keeps the plot chugging along, engaging her viewer with her spotty visuals and her adoration for the performances of Leboeuf and Gonthier-Hyndman. The actresses are the film’s greatest asset, especially in their willingness to throw themselves wholeheartedly into the action. Leboeuf has a grace that suddenly blossoms when she discovers her sense of pleasure. Gonthier-Hyndman approaches his task with a strategic twinkle in his eye. Pleasure is her goal and she will stop at nothing to get it.
And yet “Two Women” has nothing innovative to say about women’s desire in this moment. It feels like it might have been revealing 10 years ago, but now women deserve more. Sure, sex is good, but it’s not enough.
Grade: B-
“Two Women” premiered at the 2025 Sundance Film Festival. It is currently seeking distribution in the United States.
Want to keep you updated on IndieWire’s film reviews and critical thoughts? Subscribe here to our newly launched newsletter, In Review by David Ehrlich, where our chief film critic and director Reviews The editor collects the best new reviews and streaming picks along with some exclusive musings – all available only to subscribers.
