
2012 · Xavier Dolan
For when you want a big, all-consuming romance and have the whole evening to give it — a grand emotional epic rather than a light date movie. Reach for it when you want to feel everything at operatic volume.
Montreal, 1989. Laurence, a literature teacher, tells Fred — the woman she loves, and who loves her back fiercely — that she has always been a woman. What follows is a decade of the two of them trying to invent a shape for a love that fits no available category, against family, workplaces, and a world that keeps demanding they choose.
Sweeping and maximalist — slow-motion reveries, wall-to-wall 80s and 90s needle drops, sudden surreal flourishes — anchored by two people fighting for each other and with each other. It's nearly three hours and it feels like a decade lived; expect to come out wrung out and a little in love.
Suzanne Clément is the film's live wire as Fred — her ferocity won the Un Certain Regard acting prize at Cannes — while Melvil Poupaud gives Laurence a watchful, wounded dignity.
Xavier Dolan, just twenty-three, deploys the full arsenal: costume and wallpaper as emotional weather, clothes raining from the sky, a boxy square frame that keeps cropping the world down to two faces. The music and color alone make it worth the biggest screen and best sound you have.
A cornerstone of Quebec's twenty-first-century cinema and of the new queer canon, and the film that confirmed Dolan as one of the most audacious young directors of his generation.
Reception & legacy: how Laurence Anyways was received, argued over, and remembered →
Montreal, 1989: a literature teacher tells the woman she loves that she has always been a woman, and the two spend the following decade trying to invent a form for a love that fits no available category. Xavier Dolan was twenty-three when he made this, his third feature, and it announced the full Dolan arsenal: slow-motion reveries, wall-to-wall needle drops from Visage to Duran Duran, costume and wallpaper as emotional weather, and sudden surrealist eruptions — clothes raining from the sky, a waterfall indoors. Shot in boxy 1.33:1, the frame keeps cropping the world down to two faces. Suzanne Clément, whose ferocious Fred won the Un Certain Regard acting prize at Cannes, is the film's live wire; Melvil Poupaud plays Laurence with a watchful, wounded dignity. A cornerstone of Quebec's twenty-first-century cinema and of the new queer canon — though later viewers have rightly debated the casting of a cis actor — it remains Dolan's most expansive work: nearly three hours, ten years, and a romance conducted at the pitch of opera.
Lines of influence