The past rears its not-so-ugly head in Two Pianos, Arnaud Desplechin’s latest film exploring the ways gorgeous people make an even bigger mess out of the messiness of life itself. Set amidst the world of classical music in Lyon, this tale of a tortured pianist’s reunion with his also-tortured first love contains the literary and melodramatic elements one normally expects from Desplechin, who––having not received a theatrical release since 2017’s Ismael’s Ghosts––has unfortunately fallen out of favor in the U.S. Fortunately that’s not the case in his home country, where he’s maintained a prolific output that continues attracting some of France’s top actors. With Two Pianos he’s put together a rich, thoughtful look at how we can shape our lives around our biggest regrets.
Once a child prodigy at the piano, Mathias (François Civil) returns to his hometown after he’s summoned by his mentor Eléna (Charlotte Rampling) to duet with her in several concerts. Back in Lyon for the first time since leaving eight years ago to teach music in Japan, Mathias heads straight from the airport to meet Eléna at a swanky party where his underdressed appearance––upon entering he’s offered a necktie to look more appropriate––establishes the awkwardness of his presence. At the same time, Claude (Nadia Tereszkiewicz) gets ready to head to the same party with her husband Pierre (Jeremy Lewin), arriving late and right as Mathias gets ready to leave. A chance elevator run-in causes her to immediately run in the opposite direction, while Mathias faints on the spot.
That’s only the start of problems for Mathias: noticing a young child who looks exactly like him, he gets his mother (Anne Kessler) to pull out an old photo and ensure he’s not misremembering. While it’s unsure whether or not Mathias’ encounters with the young boy are real or imagined, a sudden tragedy links them back to Claude, and the former lovers have no choice but to confront each other and the baggage they’ve spent years dutifully hiding.
To reveal every thorn of Claude and Mathias’ pasts would ruin the fun of Desplechin and co-writer Kamen Velkovsky’s twisty narrative foundation, though it’s easy to figure out that the two characters’ relationship was an affair while Claude was with Pierre––one can’t have a French romantic drama without a sprinkle of adultery. Rather than tease out these plot details, Two Pianos efficiently gets them out of the way to focus on how Claude and Mathias exist under the self-imposed weight of past actions.
While at the aforementioned party, the domineering Eléna scolds Mathias over his hiding away in Japan when he should have been touring and performing like her. “I was built for war,” she tells him, and likens herself to a monster in how her lifestyle means she never really has a home. Eléna later confides in Mathias that memory decline means their concerts will be her last, and her icy demeanor cracks open to reveal the fear underneath. She realizes the fortress she built for herself over a decades-long career is about to become a prison and, faced with the fate she wrote for herself, is horrified. Charlotte Rampling delivers her best performance in years as Eléna; when she finally exits the story (in true Desplechin fashion, via a letter she reads directly to the camera), a thin mask of self-assuredness covering her vulnerability makes for Two Pianos‘ most powerful moment.
Depending on how you look at it, Eléna’s story can function as a parallel to Claude and Mathias’ or as a warning. Both of them spent nearly a decade cocooning themselves in guilt and self-lacerating wounds, and while they’re young enough to do away with those arbitrary barriers if they wished, the work in doing so might be too difficult. It’s certainly not due to anyone but themselves, as the screenplay cleverly subverts. Much of what Claude and Mathias treat as dirty secrets are unspoken truths to those around them, who don’t see much fuss in what eats at them; at one point Claude’s friend tells Mathias that “sorrow is a waste of time.”
Desplechin would have little concern if it were so easy for people to toss away their sorrows. His interests lie in people’s flaws and the myriad ways they influence and manifest different trajectories in their lives. While more formally restrained here than 2022’s Brother and Sister or the Phillip Roth adaptation Deception, opting for unassuming handled camerawork via DP Paul Guilhaume, there are plenty of sudden tonal shifts in line with characters’ emotional volatility. At one point Claude can go from practically ripping her clothes off in a building entrance with Mathias to a full-blown screaming and crying meltdown several cuts later.
What’s most impressive is how Desplechin’s direction, as well as Civil and Tereskewicz’s performances, never make these moments jarring. They unfold as waves of emotions, relatable in how one’s feelings can turn on a dime and understandable given the anguish Claude and Mathias feel at constantly batting away their desires. Two Pianos amounts to a glimpse into a brief, tumultuous time in these two people’s lives, where they take a short look at what could have been and nearly combust at the sight of it. Desplechin’s ability to find the raw, human qualities in that experience––and to respect them enough to understand that they can stand on their own rather than be weighed down by narrative contrivance––makes his movie an ideal example of what a prestige film should be.
Two Pianos premiered at TIFF 2025.
The post TIFF Review: Two Pianos is Another Rich, Thoughtful Drama from Arnaud Desplechin first appeared on The Film Stage.
