What do you even begin to say about Julia Ducournau's 2021 Palm d'Or winner, Titane? Wow? Okay, how about: it's not for everybody. In fact, it's probably not for a vast majority of moviegoers, particularly those weaned on soppy romances and superhero "event" movies. Although, to be honest, Titane's subversive edge does include turning certain elements of Marvel Entertainment and the DC Universe on their heads. And I am really--REALLY--onboard with that! 

Titane is ostensibly a sci-fi/horror hybrid that manages to cross over into significantly deeper territory, transcending its bleak, gory plotline of savagery and transformation, and morphing into a moving meditation on the transformative power of unconditional love. However, getting from Point A to Point B is no walk in the park. 

SPOILERS below:

Our barely verbal anti-heroine, Alexia, has a titanium plate in her skull, the result of a near-fatal childhood car crash for which she bears much responsibility. The movie immediately lets us know that Alexia's relationship with her father (the car's driver) is not a happy one; later, when Alexia is a young adult still living with her parents, the man's dislike of his daughter is made manifestly clear. He is also fearful and a little suspicious, what with Alexia's mental instability, and the local constabulary unable to curtail the activities of a psycho killer terrorizing the area. As it turns out, Alexia's father has good reason to be afraid. When she's not busy lap-dancing on the hoods of new cars at the auto show--apparently spokesmodels have been replaced by exotic dancers in France--Alexia kills people, usually via a quick jab through the ear (or neck or back) with a long, sharp knitting needle that also functions as a hairpin. 

One unfortunate victim has the leg of a dining chair smashed into his mouth, which our girl then proceeds to sit on once he's down for the count. Alexia does manage to take a break from all the carnage, mayhem and dirty dancing when a handsome Cadillac comes banging on her dressing room door. At least, I think it's a Cadillac. Anyhow, Alexia and the Caddy get it on--just go with it, okay?--and before you know it, Alexia finds herself pregnant. Oops. Well, it's more than oops, actually. More like what the absolute fuck? So that happens and I start to wonder if I've stumbled onto a perverse French reimagining of the Transformers movie. Alexia goes home with one of her co-dancers and after failing to abort the car-fetus thingy with the knitting needle/hairpin, goes on a killing spree that includes the chair-through-the-mouth scene. But one victim manages to escape and alert the police. With a composite sketch of the killer being broadcast over the airwaves, Alexia decides to go on the lam. First, however, she stops off to pick up a few things and burn down the house. After locking her parents inside. 

On a monitor at the bus terminal, Alexia spots an age-progression photo of the long-missing child of a respected fire chief and thus decides to change her identity. This does not go quite as smoothly as might be expected since the missing child is a boy named Adrien. What could go wrong? Alexia chops off her hair, tapes down her breasts (and growing belly) and, for good measure, breaks her nose on the sink in the bus station bathroom. Ouch! Vincent, the fire captain, is elated to finally be reunited with his "son". We know Adrien's secret but something also seems a little--off--about Dad, too. When he catches Alexia/Adrien wearing a dress she found in a bedroom closet, rather than being disturbed, Vincent eagerly pulls out old photographs of the actual Adrien wearing the same dress as a child. He warmly embraces Alexia and begins to kiss her on the face and neck, causing her, a young woman who regularly slaughters people and has been impregnated by a car, to ponder the nature of Vincent's relationship with his son. Well....

Once Vincent decides to turn the androgynous Alexia/Adrien into a full-fledged fireman--into a full-fledged man--even after he's caught Alexia taping down her breasts and burgeoning belly, the situation becomes even more complicated. When a member of Vincent's handsome, all-male crew of paramedics becomes suspicious of Adrien, his attempt to warn Vincent is met with a stern command never to speak of his "son". Vincent, it turns out, is determined to play his role to its logical--for this film--conclusion.

 

Titane, ultimately, leaves many of the obvious questions unanswered, but its narrative--bizarre, bloody and twisted though it be--is fairly straightforward with an unambiguous ending that wraps things up the only way possible (at least in the frenzied alternative world created by Ducournau and her talented cast and crew). Titane, as has been frequently noted, owes a nod to David Cronenberg, and his unsettling 1996 body-horror thriller, Crash, although the influence of Claire Denis is strongly present here too. The scene at the fire station, especially, with the young men flirting and dancing together bristles with homoerotic energy and reminds me a lot of Denis' dreamily romantic French Foreign Legion drama, Beau Travail. In fact, this scene, when Alexia/Adrien finally dances with Vincent, is the only time we see her smile in the entire film, and for one moment, her joy makes her radiant and I wished that the film could just freeze in that moment. 

Shot by cinematographer, Ruben Impens, Titane features impressively gritty visuals that, along with Jim Williams' music and the incredible actors, keeps the viewers continuously on edge. Agathe Rousselle utilizes her strong, expressive features and angular body to deliver a breathtaking performance that has very little dialogue. Her Alexia is a monstrous, tragic figure of epic dimensions: with her animal ferocity and brute physicality, she's like some mad goddess sprung from Greek mythology. In fact, Titane has much in common with Greek myths, especially the theme of transformation which echoes throughout the film. Vincent Lindon is perfect as the aging, weary fire captain beaten down by years of grief, uncertainty and an addiction to drugs. Built like a former boxer, Lindon looks both commanding and intimidating, although we're never completely certain if he'll be a match for Alexia if the "father/son" act turns violent. While Vincent's homosexuality is never explicit, it is constantly implied through his interactions with both Alexia and his men at the firehouse. There's a certain ickiness to the possibility that he might have had a thing for--if not with--his real son before the boy went missing. It's also vaguely suggested that Vincent is aware that Alexia is an imposter from the first  moment of their "reconciliation"--prompting us to speculate further on Vincent's past and his maybe not-so-delusionary mental state. 

Intelligent, grotesque and filled with tension, Titane is a difficult film to like, much less one to recommend to others. But, if you are open-minded, not squeamish about gore, violence and a general air of unsavoriness, Titane packs a tremendous wallop and is extremely moving, thanks to its fine direction and outstanding lead performers. Like it or not, Titane is not a film that's easily forgotten.