No matter what era you grew up in, sex still remains a mystery that we can’t fully understand. But Two Womenwants to try.

Directed by Chloe Robichaud, Two Women tells the story of Violette (Laurence Leboeuf), married mother who is annoyed by her husband’s constant travelling for work (an excuse that he uses to cover up his affair). Feeling trapped in her apartment, she makes a connection with her neighbour, Florence (Karine Gonthia-Hyndman), another mother who is struggling in her relationship. Neither is happy and neither is sexually fulfilled, until they decide to step outside the boundaries of their conventional lives. As the two women begin to experience the desire that they have missed, it causes them to re-evaluate their priorities for life and marriage.

Using genuineness and humour, Two Women effectively engages the ‘dirty little secret’ of sex that still seems to mystify modern relationships. Built upon solid performances by its leads, the film is a poignant (and often very funny) remake of the sexually-charged 1970 film, Two Women in Gold. Whereas the portrayal of two suburban housewives struggling with their sexuality would likely have been a shock to the system back then, that sort of exploration of femininity is less conventional in the modern era. However, in updating the relationships between its primary characters, Robichaud’s film becomes a fascinating exploration of sexual and spiritual malaise.

Though they believe themselves to be strong women, the daily burdens of motherhood and marriage have gradually drained them of life’s passions and both Florence and Violette are looking for more. Beautifully, the film reiterates their feelings of being trapped through its harsh lines and framing. At every opportunity, Robichaud encloses the women in doorways, picture frames, mirrors and whatever else gives the appearance that they feel confined.

Although they can come and go from their homes as they please, Florence and Violette feel stifled. And we feel it too.

It’s worth noting that Two Women never stands in judgment of marriage or parenthood either. Instead, these are simply four messy people who are trying to muddle through lives of convention while reviving the joy that they lack. For some characters, their brokenness is something that they want to work through. For others, it may involve setting themselves free. But, in either case, the film never devolves into moralizing and platitudes.

And that’s also what makes it fascinating.

After all, the journey of these Women really begins in the bedroom. To Florence and Violette, the rediscovery of their sexuality is an opportunity to remind themselves what made them desirable. More than that, what makes them human. Feeling lost in dead relationships, they want to feel alive. By keeping their experiences casual (and multiple), they manage to avoid the sort of emotional frustrations that they have in their marriages. (And, it’s worth noting, this sexual freedom is held in direct juxtaposition with Violette’s husband’s more-exclusive affair, a relationship that causes him increasing personal hurt.)

At the same time though, Two Women never allows sex itself to become the end goal. There’s a genuine sense that these characters are searching for something more and, while seducing plumbers may scratch an itch, it isn’t entirely fulfilling. To them, what seems to be missing is connection. (In fact, Violette and Florence even discuss the inherent differences between sexuality and ‘sexual energy’.) Here, sexuality without intimacy may scratch the itch of one’s urges but it never fully satisfies either.

On this level, Two Women becomes a fascinating exploration of the role that sexuality plays in modern relationships. Although the film places a high priority on personal pleasure, it also recognizes that there’s more to genuine fulfillment than the mere physical act. But it’s in Women’s willingness to hold that tension that makes unlocking the mystery so fascinating to watch.

Two Women is available in theatres on Friday, May 30th, 2025.