At just 84-minutes, The Killing of Two Lovers packs a surprising amount of emotional punch. Its title (not to mention its unnerving and distressing opening shots) paints a foreboding picture of what lies ahead, but this is a film whose conclusions are never forgone. Defying stereotypes and expectations, The Killing of Two Lovers offers a unique look into the mind and actions of a desperate man who seems to be at times at the end of his psychological rope, and at others a marvel of restraint and understanding. As a character study, The Killing of Two Lovers works well enough, but as the study of a set of circumstances, it works even better.
The film opens with David (Clayne Crawford) standing over the bed of his wife – the bed that until recently he shared with her. She is not alone and David is pointing a gun. Perhaps coming to his senses or maybe just spooked, David leaves the house through a window and jogs a few blocks to the dilapidated home of his father where he’s been staying. As he runs, we catch a glimpse of his surroundings: a tiny, poverty-stricken mountain town that can’t possibly offer much in the way of economic options. It’s the kind of place that traps you and never lets you go.
We come to learn that David and his wife Nikki (Sepideh Moafi) are separated and that they have four kids. They’ve agreed to see other people during their “break,” but only Nikki has indulged in the agreement. For his part, David focuses on his time with his kids (three of which are too young to fully grasp the situation, while the fourth, a teenager played by Avery Pizzuto, regularly lashes out in anger) and keeps himself busy with odd jobs. David is clearly troubled, though, as evidenced by his recurring auditory daydreams involving what sounds like violent hitting or stabbing and the cocking of a gun.
This is where things get interesting. Even though the film’s opening moments show David in a position to commit the titular act, he doesn’t – but he does continue to think about it. However, these thoughts are never presented as fantasies or fetishized plans (there’s no maniacal grinning, mysterious purchases, or any other overused tropes to indicate that a breaking point has been reached). They are much more akin to passing fancies – things that might pop into your head that you can’t really control, and then leave again.
With this in mind, writer and director Robert Machoian is careful to never paint David as the rage-fueled, hyper-masculine redneck the isolated and insular setting might suggest he be. Instead, David is a committed, sensitive family man with an astounding amount of empathy for his wife and her wishes. Despite his momentary lack of judgment at the film’s opening, we learn that he is, at heart, a gentle and kind man trying to make the best of a hurtful situation. That may run counterintuitive to our initial impressions, but The Killing of Two Lovers revels in these kinds of heartfelt complexities – something further personified in one of the most satisfying and unexpected conclusions I’ve seen from a filmmaker so far this year.
James is a writer, record collector, wrestling nerd, and tabletop gamer living with his family in Asheville, North Carolina. He is a member of the Southeastern Film Critics Association, the North Carolina Film Critics Association, and contributes to The Daily Orca, Razorcake Magazine, Mountain Xpress, and Asheville Movies.