The Killing of Two Lovers

A contemplative, observational film about a fractured family teetering on the edge of violence, skillfully combining fear and hope.

"The Killing of Two Lovers" teases you with its title. Does it refer to an actual murder that takes place, or two? Or do the people who we think are in danger of being killed the wrong two? Or maybe it's metaphorical, alluding to the death of love between a married couple?

This is a contemplative, observational drama from writer/director Robert Machoian. It stars Clayne Crawford as David, a father and husband we're not sure how we feel about. 

He is currently estranged from his wife, Nikki (Sepideh Moafi), living just down the street with his elderly, wisecracking dad. They all reside in a run-down rural town, a flat expanse between mountains that seem to loom in the background menacingly rather than beatifically. 

Things start with a scene, which I'll not describe in detail, which make us immediately fear and loathe David. He contemplates something cowardly and hateful, and we feel like he would have gone through with it if circumstances didn't intervene. Shortly thereafter he tries something similar, behaving like a first-rate stalker and creep.

But then we see him looking after his ailing father, and walking his kids to school in a quietly protective way, and maybe we think we don't know all there is to him. 

He and Nikki are taking break, at her urging, to "work on things" with the understanding they will see other people during this time. It soon becomes clear this means Nikki is seeing another man, Derek (Chris Coy), while David does little else but pine for her and think about how to fix their fractured family.

Machoian shoots many scenes from middle distance or even further away, so we feel like we're observers who happened upon this scene rather than seeking it out voyeuristically. In watching Crawford I'm reminded of Robert Duvall in "Tender Mercies," acting even with his back to the camera. 

We follow David around on his daily routine. He's an overalls-and-pickup kind of guy, doing whatever hard work needs done, like cleaning up a field of junk for a hundred bucks a day. He noodled around with being a singer/songwriter back in the day, but he and Nikki got hitched straight out of high school and started having kids, so their young dreams have been back-burnered, possibly permanently.

It's a strange journey because David will seem so even-keeled and mature one moment, like insisting to his troubled teen daughter, Jess (Avery Pizzut), that she shouldn't make Nikki out to be the villain because she wanted the separation and now has a stranger sleeping over. Then a few hours later he'll be following people around in his truck or losing his cool. 

Relationships and marital stress are not fun, and can feel like we're being physically pulled out of the body of the person we want to be and into a limbo wandering of dread and self-hate. This film shows all of that in a stark, realistic way that melts into your bones. 

One scene really resonated with me where David knows he is in the right about something Nikki has done regarding Jess, through carelessness rather than spite, and we see him use that fleeting power to manipulate the situation and compel an apology that he lavishes in. 

It becomes about point-keeping and one-upping, even (especially?) with the ones we love.

I also admired that way sound is used in the movie. There is no musical score and the background wind of the prairie lurks around us constantly like a ghost in the shadows. Sudden concussive, almost metallic sounds will suddenly punctuate the soundscape, suggesting the cocking of a pistol or scraping of a knife. 

It's a powerful, subtle way of making the audience feel like we're always balancing on the border of uncertainty and violence.

At 84 minutes, "The Killing of Two Lovers" is just long enough to fill us with a pervading sense of fear and tension, but also hope and empathy. We feel badly for this couple, even as they don't always act in the most compassionate way or try to be their best selves. David does some terrible things, or at least contemplates them, and we wish for him to pull back from the edge.

I'm not sure what to call this movie. Is it a crime thriller? A family drama? A revenge Western? Elements of all are in its DNA. I think it's one of those movies that actively resists categorization. 

The strange association that comes to mind is "Bonnie & Clyde." They were regular people who became outlaws, and David and Nikki often teeter on the edge between normalcy and depravity. It's a narrower line than we like to think.