REVIEW: Passages [2023]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 91 minutes
Release Date: Juen 28th, 2023 (France) / August 4th, 2023 (USA)
Studio: Paname Distribution / SBS Distribution / MUBI
Director(s): Ira Sachs
Writer(s): Mauricio Zacharias & Ira Sachs

Did you sleep with me to tell me that?

When Tomas (Franz Rogowski) returns home to his husband Martin (Ben Whishaw) after spending the night away with a woman he just met (Adèle Exarchopoulos’ Agathe), you can feel the embarrassment and awkwardness of the scenario. The assumption is then that he will lie. Deflect. That Tomas will do whatever he can to make certain Martin doesn’t think the worst. So, you can’t help but perk up in your seat when he instead blurts out, “I had sex with a woman. Can I tell you about it?”

It’s the wildest response and yet delivered with such purely innocent excitement. Tomas truly wants to share this experience with the man he loves. Not because they’ve agreed to an open relationship, but because he needs an outlet to work through his feelings and Martin has always fulfilled that role. Tomas doesn’t consider the fact that doing so will hurt his husband, though. In his mind he’s allowed to be selfish because Martin should understand. He always has. Except, of course, Martin hasn’t always been the victim of that selfishness.

Director Ira Sachs and co-writer Mauricio Zacharias have crafted their latest collaboration Passages in a way that throws us directly into the volatile fire of love’s passion and scorn without knowing exactly what to expect. Because it doesn’t appear like this development is a surprise as much as a blow for Martin. He’s obviously angry, but he tells Tomas they’ll talk later. That this is how he acts every time he finishes directing a film. Tomas is an artist. Impulsive. Narcissistic. Things will return to normal.

Unless this has become “normal”? What happens if constant forgiveness and acceptance has pushed Tomas to revolt? Not because he doesn’t love Martin anymore. Or because he doesn’t need him. But because he wants more. He wants the fireworks that arise from making Martin mad. He craves the excitement and uncertainty of blowing up everything safe and comfortable, training himself to think it’s a game rather than a time bomb—for both of them. Because this time Tomas is falling in love. This time Agathe is more than a pawn and Martin is the third wheel forced to face the reality he’s relinquished all control.

It’s a fascinating and complex character study wherein desire gets the best of all involved. Tomas wants his new toy. Agathe wants love. Martin wants escape. But then come the restraints. Tomas finding himself in an even more rigid example of domesticity. Agathe realizing she’s playing second fiddle to his career and former life. Martin wondering if the new artist he’s found (Erwan Kepoa Falé’s Amad) is real or just his own self-destructive nature filling the void of love with a familiar facsimile. Now Tomas wants Martin back. Agathe wants freedom. They all want to be heard.

What’s interesting, though, is that Sachs doesn’t focus on the two characters who’ve earned our sympathy (Martin and Agathe are rarely given any screen time dictated by their own perception). His lead is instead the one who causes them so much pain. Because while they all want to be heard, only Martin and Agathe are also willing to listen. Only they are ready to sacrifice that which they want to ensure Tomas is being heard too.

He refuses to do the same. He might be incapable of it. When a conversation goes awry, Tomas just leaves. When someone tells him to go, he’ll fight to stay. This isn’t therefore a story about a troubled man seeking answers. It’s about a troubled man demanding answers and, in turn, opening the eyes of those who love him to the truth that he’ll never love anyone but himself.

The film’s complex and intelligent script mines the emotions that go into the intermingling of love, lust, and desire. There’s the unconditional love Martin and Agathe give Tomas and the ways in which he exploits it for personal gain. Whishaw and Exarchopoulos are great as always giving life to their tragic journeys, but Rogowski is unforgettable as the man causing them such unspeakable pain. Because nothing Tomas does is malicious. I’m not even certain you can call it intentional. But it hurts. It destroys.

Passages works so well and feels so refreshing because it flips the usual redemption formula. Instead of teaching Tomas the error of his insidiously domineering way, it opens the eyes of his victims (and ours). It highlights how humans ignore red flags and compromise themselves for something that isn’t real while also understanding their oppressor’s genuine sorrow is irrelevant once they’ve found the strength to let him go. That sorrow doesn’t earn empathy as much as pity for his confusion. Hopefully we’d do better to recognize our own fault in a similar situation.

As for the NC-17 rating: Wow. If this isn’t an egregious example of the MPAA classifying gay sex as “explicit” simply for being gay, I don’t know what is. Zero nudity beyond one flaccid penis in a non-sex scene. That’s it.