Titane, Julia Ducournau’s second feature film (and the winner of the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival in 2021), is a bit like a cinematic car – with the disfigured metallic body of David Cronenberg’s Crash, the scary powerful engine of John Carpenter’s Christine, and an interior reminiscent of the essence of French cinema itself (with a hint of late Hitchcock experimentation), this vehicle displays quite the unique package.
Living in some sort of dreamscape (that often lingers in a more nightmarish realm), Ducournau embodies the piece with a fantastical essence – like a sleep-induced vision, much of the narrative seems rooted in reality, yet with delusory elements that make us question the supposed corporeality of the story. Fusing body horror and psychological thriller with twisted love story, Titane, which translates to titanium in English, is an apt title for the picture. Our main character, Alexia (Agathe Rousselle), as a child, had a titanium plate placed in her head after a horrific car accident (leaving a scarred patch that looks like something from a Guillermo del Toro film).
Flash forward several decades and intriguingly, she doesn’t fear fast cars and the metal they are made of, but rather spends her nights as a non-nude exotic dancer for posh car shows – gyrating on a souped up, flame painted Cadillac. This location (and her adult self) is introduced by way of an extended take (likely with some hidden cuts), the film’s editing (by Jean-Christophe Bouzy) often lingering, slowing the pace – it all leading to purposely jarring edits.
Whether it’s due to her disinterested and unloving father (Bertrand Bonello), her intense childhood brain injury, or some other reason, Alexia has a violent edge – and by violent, I mean dispatching anyone who shows any sexual interest in her. Leading to her community realizing they have a serial killer on their hands, she flees, transforming her look from female to male – mimicking a long missing boy named Adrien (feigning muteness to complete the performance).
Welcomed back by Adrien’s depressed, rudderless father Vincent (Vincent Lindon) – an aging fire chief trying to keep his fitness in a job that needs it, this is, in many ways, the perfect escape plan for the now Adrien. Yet, the acting he soon discovers she is pregnant – oddly leaking what seems like car oil rather than blood, further complicating the ruse.
Turning from its overt horror elements (but lingering in the realm of body horror) and entering into a cat and mouse mystery imbued with complex emotions and feelings of love, loneliness, and depression, Vincent, likely knowing that this is not truly Adrien, continues to put everything he has into enlivening this lost soul (in turn, giving himself what he has long yearned for) – providing more parenting, and the nurturing that comes along with it, than anything she had previously received in all of her formative years. Complex, subtle, often unspoken, other sentiments linger – violence, Alexia’s overt sexuality, confusion – all playing into this unorthodox character drama.
Unlike your prototypical American movie, none of these elements are given freely to the audience. There are no guaranteed answers, nothing is spelled out – its truths are the very questions we ask. . . and the realities we ourselves attempt to perceive. There is no right or wrong, just the beauty that is art. I will say that fire is a major theme – whether it is in relation to the fact that titanium is highly resistant to heat, to a Phoenix’s rebirth, or something else entirely, it is up to you to decide.
An at times extremely violent and sexually explicit motion picture, Titane harkens back to a cinematic time of creativity, experimentation, and freedom (be that the Pre-Code era or what followed its end from the 60s onward). You are never spoon fed, rather, the viewer is provided with a titanium fork to pick away at the multitude of layers that yearn for analysis. Paired with its visually stunning aesthetics (though some of the more intense moments might make you cringe), thought-provoking editing, and unnerving score (by Jim Williams), it really is a special piece of cinema. So, don’t be a baby, push the pedal to the metal and see this maverick motion picture.
This film is in French with English subtitles