Double Lover

And Alligator Alcatraz Merch

By the way, anyone reading this should check out the chat I had with Charlotte Simmons, the best film writer on Substack. You can read it here, and please join the discussion!

There’s a certain type of film writer that gets bogged down in issues of authorship, noting what can or cannot be deemed “original” in an artform well beyond its one hundredth year. That results in people being called ripoff artists for approximating what worked before, exploring similar themes in a familiar way as to call out comparisons to some of the greatest movies of all time, movies that we have all collectively loved. Which is to say (you might know where I’m going with this, movie fans) that Brian De Palma has repeatedly, intentionally, and gleefully jacked from several artists over the years, none moreso than Alfred Hitchcock.

Enter François Ozon. An acclaimed master filmmaker from France, he’s been specializing in Very French suspense thrillers for decades that call back to Hitchcock while also (sometimes just gently) exploring content Hitchcock would not have been permitted to feature on film in his prime. Ozon is someone who film fans have enjoyed without ever developing a specific attribute or film to define his career. 2003’s erotic thriller “Swimming Pool” was maybe his most beloved film stateside. My particular favorite is 2012’s “In The House”, about a preteen student who begins writing creepily-specific erotic fiction about his teacher’s wife. Ozon is a button pusher, but more prankster than provocateur.

In a move that takes us well beyond the looking glass, Ozon’s “Double Lover” feels like him explicitly doing not Hitchcock but De Palma. This thriller, from 2017, stylistically seems like it might actually be a lost De Palma effort from the mid eighties, maybe something he did between the perverse “Dressed To Kill” and the outright-filthy “Body Double”. It’s less about the atmosphere and tension building of Hitchcock, and more about the De Palma-esque act of looking, observing, lusting. It’s a sexual film, not necessarily pushing a specific boundary in 2025 but, in its eroticism, it feels dirty, inappropriate, pornographic.

Chloe is a gorgeous woman in an androgynous pixie cut joylessly holding down a sexless job – already, wildly divergent signifiers everywhere. Seeking to unpack past trauma, she begins therapy sessions with Paul (Jeremie Renier). I’m gonna go ahead and say that Paul is super unprofessional, because he’s immediately attracted to Chloe, and he wastes very little time in seducing her. Chloe, for the record, is played by Marine Vacth, who is so beautiful that it almost feels like there’s a battle of the sexes and one side is cheating. It’s not fair that someone can look like her.

The couple moves in together after a torrid courtship that, somehow, still requires therapy. Chloe doesn’t think much of it that Paul isn’t using his real name, and that he’s trying to outrun a disturbing past. I get this – I once knew a guy who had a relationship with a woman but who spent their first year convincing her that he had a different first name. I’m not saying that’s healthy, it’s definitely not. But it was not crucial to the actual reason why the relationship dissolved years later. Actually, it was because he was a jerk. So, totally different reason. Regardless, Chloe is untroubled by this revelation.

That is, of course, until she finds another practice one town over, run by Louis. Louis is a therapist who just so happens to look exactly like Paul. She decides to participate in a session, and she finds that Louis is not only a literal mirror image of Paul, but he seems to be the id to Paul’s ego. And so Chloe lets herself be seduced by him too. Well, it’s not exactly seduction, it’s something a bit more savage and possibly in violation of consent. It’s also something that excites Chloe. She finds herself returning to Louis frequently, without letting Paul know of her schedule or extracurriculars. It’s only with this contrast that the audience realizes Paul is a more inclusionary lover – Louis, by contrast, is a dominant, selfish personality. Somewhat dangerously so. The movie doesn’t need to tell you Louis and Paul are twin brothers. A seasoned viewer would pick it up with his DePalma Sense.

It’s not a spoiler to tell you that obviously Paul finds out about this. And what results is a fairly unconventional exploration of a three-way relationship. Throughout, Chloe learns to take ownership of her sexuality, even if she’s haunted in dreams by her new personal life. True to De Palma, Chloe has her own past involving doubles, one that is explored through her mother, played by Jacqueline Bisset. It’s an arch reveal that suggests Ozon’s bemused treatment of the material is a shared pleasure with his audience. Your mind sees this improbable relationship and goes to bizarre places, but in this film, Ozon gets there first. It concludes with a great final image that is befitting the source material, a Joyce Carol Oates novel from 1987.

Ozon takes his characters seriously, but he knows this sort of thing should be fun. This is a heightened sexual affair in the film, not typically something that would happen to anyone else. It is fantasy – barbed fantasy of course, given that sex can be dangerous and secrets can end lives, but fantasy all the same. Chloe wants to be convinced she is doing the right thing, even as she’s behaving in a way most women in polite society would never dream. Is there something “wrong” with her? Or is it biology? Ozon asks the question knowing that it’s not important, knowing that sex is a battleground for us to make mistakes, and that we all have agency in how we juggle the complexities of sexual indiscretion.”Double Lover” may elicit laughs, but it’s the human condition that, inevitably, is the joke.

I visited Florida recently, hearing of people freely wearing merchandise from Alligator Alcatraz. Speaking to one specific local, the logos and paraphernalia of the illegal and now-closed detainment sites were being treated like just another brand, like Senor Frog’s or Gatorade. On many levels, this was upsetting and depressing to me, and it’s worth noting that the ICE camp wasn’t closed for obvious human rights violations (lack of proper food, lack of access to legal counsel, no due process) but for environmental purposes. Because they hurt, abused, demeaned and degraded other human beings on purpose, and made shirts about it. Mascots for torture.

This is why it will happen again. Plans are underway for other states to adapt ICE detainment facilities similar to “Alligator Alcatraz”, particularly as far as brazen illegality. Right now, they are emboldened because the only ones standing up for those in custody are judges, and judges have heavy caseloads and take time to rule on legal matters. They’re the last line of defense, but they’re not the only line of defense. As a regular citizen, there might not be much you can do. But if you EVER see idiotic merchandise like those Alligator Alcatraz shirts, speak up. Let these people know they’re celebrating a crime.