Frank & Lola is a film about the titular character’s moments together until they hit a major speed bump rooted in past trauma, which triggers Frank’s seething inability to handle career and emotional setbacks without asserting dominance in primitive ways. Frank & Lola asks the question of whether or not Frank and Lola can overcome this setback.
I watched Frank & Lola because it stars Michael Shannon, an American under appreciated treasure. If you are sensitive to sexual content and sexual violence, skip Frank & Lola. Frank & Lola is director Matthew Ross’ first feature film, and visually it is perfect and thoughtful. I lusted after the locations, not the people, in Frank & Lola though Ross does a terrific job of showcasing Shannon as a sexual being, which is not what he is typically known for.
Frank & Lola should just be called Frank because Imogen Poots’ character is not really the focus of the story though she is integral to it. Poots does an amazingly nuanced job of emotionally communicating everything that you need to know about Lola on sight. By the time Lola explains her side of the story, it confirmed what Poots already embodied before it is revealed. Poots’ performance is very impressive for her age.
Frank & Lola is engaging, but initially discombobulating because from the opening of the film until the turning point, I was never sure at what point were we in the relationship. Was the story progressing linearly or were there flashbacks? The answer is linear progression. How long were they together? This disorientation is not a criticism of Frank & Lola. I think that it works because Frank & Lola demands that the viewer closely examine the characters and how they interact with each other as individuals and a couple to conclude the maturity and health of the relationship with themselves and each other.
Frank & Lola initially presents itself as a relationship movie, but it is really a film about a masculine identity crisis and an inability to possibly deal with his past trauma, which is alluded to or briefly referenced. Shannon does a masterful job of facial emoting when Frank is triggered. This trauma influences his reaction to present circumstances and his view of every moment as a competition or a battle between barely suppressed resentful submission and violent dominance. It is no accident that the relationship speed bump intersects with career setbacks. (Side note: I loved, loved, loved the cooking scenes.) Lola, the kitchen and the streets are interchangeable battlegrounds for Frank’s psyche. Frank has physical presence and organic talent, but is acutely aware that he lacks power and money. At some point, Lola stopped being a person for Frank and became a symbol. If Frank & Lola firmly committed to this concept from the beginning, I think Frank & Lola would have been a stronger film.
For me, Frank & Lola becomes a purely cinematic invention instead of an interesting character study after Frank’s big descending turning point. I need Ross to hang out with Paul Verhoeven or another European director to fully navigate the sexual spectrum that Americans can’t handle except in binary terms. After seeing Frank & Lola, I was really confused and frustrated at reviewers classifying the film as a psychosexual noir thriller. I would reference the following films as psychosexual noir thrillers: most films by Park Chan-wook, Fatal Attraction, Basic Instinct or The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.
I think that it is a fundamental misunderstanding of Lola’s story and complete adoption of Frank’s mindset to see Frank & Lola as a psychosexual noir thriller. Frank is not presented in Frank & Lola as a reliable, objective narrator that the viewer should not question. I think that characterizing Frank & Lola as a psychosexual noir thriller suggests that viewers may not be balancing Frank’s view of the world with possible objective markers and other characters’ motivations. It is a little frightening to me that viewers may be inclined to completely adopt Frank’s worldview, which is traumatized and distorted albeit sympathetic and plausible to a point. There is a point when Frank transforms from victim to perpetrator, and I’m not talking about near the conclusion of Frank & Lola. I’m concerned that by classifying Frank & Lola as a psychosexual noir thriller, viewers may see this moment as justified.
Frank & Lola is somewhat problematic for using a woman’s pain to explore a guy’s character. While Frank & Lola did not depict this trope in a clichéd way, it is still a revenge trope. This trope reduces Lola to a plot device, not a person, which is the fundamental weakness of Frank & Lola. It is an unfortunate and significant flaw because I do think that Frank & Lola is an amazing debut for Ross, a magnificent showcase for the cast and a visually sumptuous feast. What makes French films better than American films is that even if a revenge trope is used, it does not feel contrived, but treated in a matter of fact manner that recognizes daily reality of coping. Instead this trope derails Frank & Lola and makes the formerly riveting film boring, predictable and absurd.
Frank & Lola has a great cast, but Rosanna Arquette is asked to play a raging cougar and Michael Nyquist is asked to play the dissolute Swede. They do a great job, but their characters are such stereotypes that I kept hoping they paid a big bill with those paychecks. Justin Long’s character is seen as a stereotype, but actually ends up being pretty interesting, and I feel like Long struck the balance by plausibly centering his character to make Frank and Lola’s view of him equally plausible-something that the reviewers failed to do.
Frank & Lola is a flawed film filled with potential. If you are a fan of the cast, do not mind movies with explicit sexual content and sexual violence or love visually amazing films that some equate with Michael Mann’s early style, which I would say is a compliment, but would challenge that it is not imitation and it is unique, then definitely check out Frank & Lola.