The Queer Love Story That’s Hard to Watch

Lukas Dhont’s latest film, Coward, has received a mixed reaction from critics. Some praise it as his most ambitious work yet, while others criticize its mannerisms and emotional manipulation. Having followed Dhont’s career since his first two features, Girl and Close, I’ve landed somewhere in the middle.

Coward deviates from Dhont’s usual themes of exploring identity and trauma. Instead, he leans into a story that feels forced and artificial, despite its good intentions. His previous films have been praised for their thoughtful portrayal of queer characters and experiences, but Coward takes a different approach. The director wants to show the bravery of soldiers who find love in the midst of war, but this narrative thread comes across as heavy-handed and overly sentimental.

The central romance between Pierre (Emmanuel Macchia) and Francis (Valentin Campagne) is meant to be tender and vulnerable, but it’s difficult to feel invested in their relationship when the emotional stakes are artificially high. Dhont relies on convenient plot devices to advance the love story, such as Pierre’s moral qualms about participating in a degrading act towards German prisoners, which are easily forgotten as he becomes more involved with Francis.

The film’s handling of trauma and emotional manipulation raises questions about Dhont’s intentions. Is this really a nuanced exploration of queer identity, or is it just another example of the director using sensitive subjects to elicit an emotional response from audiences? The use of music and performance as a way to explore the complexities of war and human relationships is an interesting idea, but it feels like a shallow take on the subject.

Dhont’s musical numbers are overwrought and forced, serving only to illustrate his attempts to create a grandiose atmosphere. It’s hard not to feel that he’s more interested in creating a spectacle than genuinely exploring the emotional depths of his characters. The film has been praised for its historical accuracy regarding the experiences of soldiers during World War I, but this feels like a shallow nod towards authenticity rather than a genuine attempt to explore the complexities of war.

The history of soldiers entertaining their comrades through performance is well-documented, representing its own unique form of bravery in macho military environments. Dhont would have done better to explore this aspect of war more thoughtfully and nuancedly, rather than using it as a convenient way to further his central love story.

It’s difficult not to wonder what went wrong with Coward. Is this really the best that Dhont can offer after two critically acclaimed features? Or is this just another example of a director struggling to find their footing in the complex world of queer identity and trauma? Whatever the case, it’s clear that Coward feels like a misstep for an otherwise talented filmmaker.

Ultimately, Coward feels stuck in its own emotional quagmire, struggling to find its footing amidst a sea of manufactured drama and forced sentimentality.