The Killing of Two Lovers (Robert Machoian, 2020)

The Killing of Two Lovers is a film that focuses most of its attention on things that don't happen. From the opening scene, Machoian introduces David (Clayne Crawford) as a sort of rural Hamlet, struggling with the urge to make a cruel yet decisive move, ostensibly for the sake of his family. As it turns out, he is prevented from taking that drastic measure precisely because of his family. Outside his former bedroom, David hears a toilet flush, reminding him that his four children are all in the house. David, then, becomes defined not only by his drive to keep his family together, but also the extent to which being a father stops him from unleashing his rage upon the world.

Several reviews, as well as interviews with Machoian, have suggested that The Killing of Two Lovers is a study of masculinity in crisis. This may well be true, but it's an idea that asks us to look a bit more deeply into conventional ideas of American masculinity. David's adversary, Derek (Chris Coy) is not a father, as far as we know. He is under no obligation to be a role model, or to allow himself to be vulnerable in the face of other people's needs. All he has to worry about is pleasing Niki (Sepideh Moafi), his new girlfriend and David's (temporarily?) estranged wife. Derek can put his energy toward humiliating David, while David is operating at a disadvantage. Of course he is trying to win Niki back, but his primary obligation is to his children, accounting for their well-being and security. His older daughter Jess (Avery Pizzuto) implores her father to "fight for us," without understanding how David has one hand tied behind his back.

It would be facile to read this as some kind of political allegory; it's not that at all. But of course we can't talk about toxic masculinity without taking into account that a little under half of American voters expressed their confidence in such toxicity. If David is perceived as being less "manly" than Derek, it's because he cares about others, and always considers the consequences of his actions. (It's hard to beat an asshole at their own game, specifically because they are more than willing to use your ethics and attachments against you.) 

We don't know what precipitated the breakdown of David and Niki's marriage, although the fact that they married young and had four kids in quick succession hardly allowed either of them to figure out who they wanted to be. By choosing Derek, Niki is clearly curious about the allure of men who are nothing like David, which is threatening to all concerned. Some commentators have argued that Machoian's film is unfair to Niki, but I think it mainly shows her to be struggling and confused. The married couple, after all, agreed to take some time and explore themselves and their other options. The fact that David cannot perceive himself outside of the role of husband and father is not a positive quality in itself, unless you're a conservative of the pro-family, anti-introspection variety. In that case, you'll see what you want to see.

Part of what makes The Killing of Two Lovers such an impressive film is its use of space, both sonically and in terms of landscape. David moves around his small Utah town, particularly his tiny neighborhood, with an angry fervor, like a trapped animal. His house, where Niki and the kids are staying and where Derek has moved in, is just a block away from David's father's place, where he's staying. How is he supposed to gain perspective when he can't gain any distance? Likewise, everywhere David goes, people hail him and call him by name. He has no real chance to forge a new identity. He can only have one, and it has been stripped away from him.

So the only place to which David can retreat is his own head, and this is not a particularly healthy space. Machoian's complex sound design (possibly the best of any film since Kurosawa's Cure) mimics the clutter of panicked thought, which a musique concrète chorus of car-door slams and chamber clicks rushing upon David like a series of hopeless options. Often, the soundtrack will loop a specific noise in advance of its function as a diegetic sound effect, like David running to his father's house while being chased by the slamming of the door he has yet to enter. Again, if we want to call this "impotent male rage," I suppose we could, but in truth it's more about the weight of responsibility. All his life, David has been trained (like all of us) to think you could pull a trigger and blow your problems to smithereens. But a caring, intelligent man realizes that no one's aim is good enough. Are you really prepared to destroy everyone around you? 

Moral: don't be a damn fool.