Irony, suspense, wry humor and an impending loss of innocence define “A Girl Cut in Two,” the most recent film by Claude Chabrol. Chabrol is an important director of the turn-of-the-’60s French New Wave, and his work is characterized by deliberate cinematography and unsettling editing. A co-writer of the film’s screenplay, Chabrol’s extensive filmmaking experience allows him to craft an elaborate story that lends itself to a visually impressive look at a destructive romantic triangle.
The film centers around a young, perky, television weather girl, Gabrielle (Ludivine Sagnier), who finds herself torn between love for a much older author, Charles (Francois Berleand) and the attentions of a perfectly coiffed, spoiled and brash young suitor, Paul (Benoit Magimel). As her relations with Charles intensify, trouble ensues as Charles refuses to leave his wife.  Meanwhile, Paul pursues Gabrielle and attempts to gain her love through proposing marriage and money. The demands of both men frustrate Gabrielle until forces beyond her control culminate with the collision of violence and passion, leaving her with shattered innocence.
In terms of acting, Sagnier is particularly adept as Gabrielle, endowing the role with energy and naivety that convey her innocence and charm. With each wound inflicted, or cut, on her psyche, viewers share her pain. Berleand and Magimel are equally believable in their roles as Charles and Paul, respectively, but the real gem in the film is Caroline Silhol as Mme. Gaudens, who delivers a pleading monologue near the end of the film to appeal to the sympathies of Gabrielle to save her son. Though I had already been impressed with the way she portrays Mme. Gaudens with aloofness, in this scene, I was transfixed by her emotional intensity in candor and delivery.
Irony, treasured by the French, establishes and defines the tone of the film. For example, a great deal of thematic irony centers on the adage: “What’s in a name?” Gabrielle Aurore Deneige evokes ideas of purity and innocence with its references to snow and the aurora borealis, the Northern lights. The name Charles Saint-Denis turns out to have been created as a pseudonym — a lie, as the “Saint” has been assumed by a man who is far from saintly. Charles also invokes the name when he describes his blindly devoted wife. Finally, at one point in the film, someone comments on the name “Gaudens,” realizing it as a symbol of corruption in the way “Tartuffe” has come to stand for a religious hypocrite and “Candide” signifies naivety. These character definitions through nomenclature identify characters in terms of symbolism.
Meanwhile, in terms of Gabrielle’s precarious situation, the titular figurative “cutting” of Gabrielle indicates her triangular romantic relationship. With a married man unwilling to leave his wife and a relentless suitor, viewers can already surmise how the film is going to end, but the film never ceases to offer a few surprises anyway. For example, the ways in which events transpire, including the climax and its motivations, are certainly shocking.
All in all, “Girl Cut in Two” is certainly worth seeing for fans of tragicomedies or for insight into a distinct culture and style of filmmaking.
“A Girl Cut in Two” is playing now at the Belcourt Theatre.
