With his first two features, Girl and Close, Lukas Dhont carved out a reputation for piercing examinations of the minefield for children and adolescents of sexual and gender identity, whether internalized or in relation to the outside world. Both films drew acclaim, but also detractors who bristled at the Belgian director’s perceived exploitation of subjects as sensitive as gender dysphoria, self-harm and suicide for the purposes of emotional manipulation. I’ve landed somewhere down the middle of those two poles, until Coward, which reeks of manneristic affectation and phoniness.
One of the indisputable strengths of Dhont’s films has been his skillful handling of actors, especially young screen newcomers. That virtue is undermined here by leads with minimal chemistry, one of them inexpressive and the other archly theatrical, by design if not to rewarding effect. But what really sinks Coward is the self-conscious grandiosity with which the director strains for lofty emotional peaks in moments that instead come off as hollow and artificial.
Coward
The Bottom Line
War is Hell, especially when it just sits there.
