Filmmaker Julia Ducournau broke out with a provocative debut feature that blended horror, comedy, and tenderness in a coming-of-age cannibal tale. It set the bar high for her anticipated sophomore effort, which Cannes reactions only bolstered. The reality is that Ducournau’s follow-up, Titane, continues what she started with Raw. Sexual and gender identity gets explored through provocative body horror, delivering a viscerally violent and darkly comedic yet tender experience that’s difficult to forget.
During childhood, a car accident left Alexia (Agathe Rousselle) with a titanium plate in her skull and a car fetish. As an adult, Alexia works as a well-known dancer and model at car shows, writhing atop the hoods of hot rods and titillating patrons. That’s not the only thing strange about Alexia, either. She’s socially aloof to the point of casual murder. Her after-hour pastime of killing catches the notice of authorities, and Alexia goes on the run, right into the arms of firefighter captain Vincent (Vincent Lindon) after posing as his long-lost son. With the threat of the truth constantly hanging overhead, hiding under a different gender proves extra tricky when Alexia realizes a torrid car encounter left her body with a parting, unwanted gift.
Once again, Ducournau finds unique, transgressive ways to use body horror that trigger instant revulsion yet garner instant empathy. Alexia is an anti-heroine, borderline sociopathic, and someone who initially captivates by her shocking acts. Those incredible acts never really stop; they only transform into something else as she enters Vincent’s care. Vincent isn’t exactly normal himself, there’s something dangerous about him, but he’s also profoundly broken from losing his son so many years ago. A ruthless killer gets in over her head when plunged into a strange testosterone-filled new world. All while her body becomes a foreign battleground.
When taken at surface value, no wonder Titane garnered a “WTF” reputation on the festival circuit. Alexia’s narrative is a wild, wild ride and goes to some odd places, and Ducournau’s use of demented humor certainly adds to the feeling that she’s messing with her audience. But much like the feral hunger for flesh stood in for sexual appetite in Raw, a murderess with a sexual desire for vehicles also serves as a façade for something more unsettling. Something that would understandably send a woman spiraling into murder and an identity crisis.
Ducournau is now two for two in creating films that ask you to read between the lines while distracting you from outrageous and often violent horror. She pushes the envelope much further here in taste and challenging heteronormativity. The metaphors don’t stop, resulting in a kaleidoscope of weird that aims to polarize.
Titane throws everything at its audience in an aggressive style. Visceral, cringe-worthy violence, and even more bizarre sexual encounters. Surreal moments of tenderness and another round of awkward dance scenes ensue. Twisted humor heightens the strangeness of it all, right down to gross-out body horror. Ducournau makes all of it, visually and narratively, remarkably coherent. It’s anchored by a pair of leads so fully committed to their oddly winsome yet profoundly flawed characters. Playing like two different halves of a whole- another metaphor in itself- Titane will prove to be divisive upon release. That second half favoring a less explosive, but no less volatile story shift. But if you fell hard for the style of genre-bending horror of Raw, well, chances are high you’ll fall for Ducournau’s sophomore effort as well. Titane hits the pedal to the metal and goes off-road into much wilder territory. Buckle up.
Titane releases in theaters on October 1, 2021.
