Two Days, One Night

Dennis Martin6 said:That isn't quite right, which is clearly evident if you look at films like *Jeanne Dielman* or even the opening sequence of *Café Noir*.

I suppose I have to admit you're right—calling "Two Days..." an example of hyperrealism isn't quite accurate. As northerncrane4 so astutely pointed out, The Coen brothers are really more like the spiritual successors to that whole neo-realist tradition.

Did I just notice that? 🙏 I was only joking. 🙂
shadowtinker15 kept throwing that specific term around whenever he discussed film, and I actually fell for it, adopting his terminology under the impression that he was describing what he called hyperrealism, when in reality, the correct term is neorealism.
I haven't actually sat through any of those films yet, so would you mind giving me a quick one or two-sentence breakdown of what makes each one unique, just so I don't end up getting them mixed up later?

The Coen brothers make traditional realist movies. Their whole goal is to trick you into believing the events on screen are "real."

But stuff like 'Jeanne Dielman' or certain parts of 'Cafe Noir'—that’s what I call "hyperreality." These films use ultra-realistic, documentary-style techniques to actually highlight how fake they are. A standard realist flick—think something like 'Two Days in...'—keeps the focus squarely on the characters. But in 'Jeanne Dielman,' the attention is spread out equally between the person and the space around them. Take those long, static shots where a character is doing something at a table and then just walks out of frame. In a regular movie, there’d be a cut right there. Instead, the camera just sits there, forcing you to stare at the kitchenware—the colors, the shapes, the textures, the composition—basically building the "vibe" of the scene through objects.

Look at that five-minute opening shot in 'Cafe Noir.' It shows a woman eating a burger in real-time. There’s this neon "halo" hanging over her head, giving the whole thing a religious feel—it’s the director showing how fast-food joints have become the modern-day pilgrimage sites.

It’s the same deal with hyperrealistic painting, where they capture visual effects and details the human eye doesn't even normally pick up.

Anyway, that’s my take on it. 😁

Reading through all those scathing reviews, you start to feel like filming a social drama about a woman in American society is basically an impossible task. Unless she’s physically disabled and living in a walk-up apartment in a crumbling corner of Chicago, or maybe a struggling single mom fighting to raise three kids on her own, or perhaps someone caught up in the immigration system facing deportation back to a country where a harsh trial awaits her... there just doesn't seem to be any room for anyone else.

Walter Grant5 said:So you’re claiming people haven't done anything to improve their lot—but how is that even possible when the individual is the least influential player in the game? The system itself is what drives the outcome. This structure inherently favors those who already hold the upper hand, granting them disproportionate leverage over everything that follows. People in power are essentially being handed the ability to dictate someone else's fate for a price—all while stripping that very person of any agency to decide for themselves. The system isn't just a factor; it's the architect of the whole mess.

I don't see what you expect from a system like that—what exactly do you think it can handle? A system exists to serve the largest possible group sharing a common denominator. If the protagonist of this film doesn't fit within the existing framework of Western social structures, then there’s always another system ready to accommodate her.

Tom Hanks said:Since when did depression stop being a legitimate psychological illness? What’s the alternative—saying someone just wiped out on their motorcycle and spent two months spinning out in corners? Or maybe they were in a car wreck?

Is it? I don't think so. The filmmakers clearly opted for a sense of depression—which isn't exactly a bad handicap to have. But... I'll get into that more once I've had a chance to respond to the others chiming in on this.

Tom Hanks said:How can you tell when tackling social issues is actually necessary versus just being a calculated move for the festival circuit?

I said that tackling social issues—well, it’s a choice. Like this. The way these filmmakers approach their work—it’s clearly driven by festival calculation. Purely empirical. It plays well at Sundance or Cannes. They touch upon a subject without actually engaging with it. What this film does—and I'll say it again—isn't exploring a theme; it's merely stating one.

Tom Hanks said:How exactly are you trying to prove that your observation is actually organic and authentic?

It feels like I’m living and breathing in the world of The Coen brothers—whereas they don't even bother to inhabit the lives of their own protagonists.

Tom Hanks said:So what—are we supposed to just ignore suicidal depression if someone actually has their life together materially? Since when did a decent bank account become a prerequisite for mental health? And what about when icons like Robin Williams take their own lives? Does that necessarily imply they were just spoiled?

I'm saving this for a more comprehensive response later.

Tom Hanks said:It depends—in some ways you're dependent, but in others, you aren't. You have more leverage when your influence balances out other forces. You can forgive them; we aren't directly responsible for those all-powerful idiots who abuse their positions or ruin things "for the good of the country" at everyone else's expense. They're the ones shaping the systems—while you just live within the ones that suit them.

True, but those people have their own struggles—issues that may have driven them to where they are now. And maybe they have a justification for acting that way—at least one that holds up in their own minds. That’s worth looking into—provided you decide to tackle those questions like The Coen brothers.

Which brings us to the next set of answers...

Ashley Grant66 said:I have a feeling some people here would accuse the directors of being cheap—claiming they just made a movie about struggling immigrants or families crammed into a decaying apartment with five kids because the system failed them and jobs are scarce. If that were the case, someone would inevitably call out the filmmakers for being pathetic or hypocritical. After all, most of us whining about these types of films live in more than decent conditions; we sit in our comfortable seats at film festivals, nodding solemnly at these tragic fates, only to head straight to a dinner party afterward.

shadowtinker15 said:Reading through all these negative reviews, it’s almost impossible to make a social drama about a woman in America—unless she’s physically disabled living in a walk-up apartment without an elevator, a struggling single mother of three, or an immigrant facing deportation and a potential trial back home.

A joint response to you two—and Tony...

I think we’re missing each other here—not that I have anything against Dardenne's choice of subject matter, but rather his specific approach. They make a conscious decision to muddy the waters with their characters and their situations. They. You’re the one who dehumanized your own protagonist. Unknown. These observers—they don't care about anything beyond the fact that she’s in a clinical, suicidal depression. That’s it. That’s the guy. The protagonist of our film is depressed, and now—just imagine—suppose she faces this situation: "How am I supposed to act this out?" You could ask the lead actress. You can't. You have depression, and that's all there is. You're depressed. But what about her husband? Her kids? It doesn't matter—you're clinically depressed, and that's enough. And her relationship with the people who voted to fire her? Please, enough with those questions—nothing. You're depressed, period. You should ask them; they'll answer you—without any big expressions, preferably none at all. And us—her colleagues—how do we handle it? No, you do the same thing—just be depressed; everyone is depressed. Everyone? Yes. (Silence.) Fine, alright, you—don't be depressed, you whistle at the guy fixing your car, you be wild. And... ACTION! Actually, not action.

Dennis Martin6 said:that’s just how I make sense of it myself 😁

Great, thanks for that. Now I'm left wondering about this part:

what you're talking about is all down to narrative structure—it's that way of portraying banal, everyday communication through a flood of dialogue where the actual goal isn't to convey anything vital, but rather to consciously withhold the important stuff to give it more weight.

is this some kind of technique for cluttering characters and situations just to manufacture an impression of mundanity, like northerncrane4 was suggesting, or is it actually a hyper-realistic tactic designed to redirect the viewer's focus toward something beyond the character themselves?

northerncrane4 said:A collective response to both of you and Tony...

I feel like we aren't quite on the same page here. It isn't that I hold the Dardenne brothers responsible for tackling the subject matter itself, but rather for their specific directorial approach. They made a conscious choice to strip these characters down, to make the situations feel messy and unpolished. They are the ones who effectively dehumanized their protagonist. They act as observers who seem uninterested in anything regarding her other than the fact that she is trapped in a clinical, suicidal depression. That’s just it. That is the character. Our main character is depressed, and just imagine if the next thing happens to her—how is she supposed to act that out? The lead actress might as well ask them, "How am I meant to play this?" There's no way; you have depression, and that's it. You're just... in it. But what about her husband or the kids? It doesn't matter; you're clinically depressed, and that's enough. And her relationship with the people who voted to fire her? Oh, please, spare us those questions—it's nothing. You're depressed, period. You could ask them, but they'd answer without any real expression, maybe not even at all. And as for us, her colleagues? No, you're all the same; just be depressed, everyone is depressed. Everyone? Yes. (Silence.) Fine, alright, you don't be depressed, you just whistle at the guy fixing your car, you act wild. And... ACTION! Actually, not action.

I see your point, but we can infer the cause of her behavior even if that cause isn't explicitly stated. Her job situation might just be the trigger for a whole web of other anxieties we haven't been introduced to—and why would we necessarily need to know them if the entire narrative focuses on this one core theme?
You're talking about character construction, okay. But is it absolutely necessary for a character to be perfectly polished? She's presented as a fair person trying to carve out some space for herself. She isn't pushy, but she does it and feels uncomfortable because of it. By the end of the film, she refuses to cave to her employer, showing that she stands by her principles. She's an honest, principled person who doesn't step on anyone else's toes, yet she ends up jobless and completely frazzled because she realizes she has to compromise to succeed, and she simply can't do it.
Now, you could argue this is strictly my interpretation and that the character needs to speak more for herself. But I ask again: is that truly necessary?
Someone mentioned Stroszek earlier. What kind of character is he? What are his actions? The man behaves almost brainlessly, like those chickens at the end of the movie, but is that metaphor alone enough to say the character was satisfyingly executed?

shadowtinker15 said:Sure, she’s there—but we're just guessing at why she acts this way since the film never explicitly spells out her motives. Her job situation might just be the breaking point for a mountain of other stressors we aren't shown. And honestly, why would we need to know all that if the entire story centers on one specific theme?
You're talking about character development—fine. But is it absolutely necessary for a character to be perfectly "polished"? She's presented as a fair person just looking for some breathing room. She isn't pushy, though she feels uneasy about it. By the end, she refuses the boss's compromise, proving she sticks to her principles—an honest, principled woman who won't play dirty, even if it leaves her unemployed and scattered because she refuses to compromise her values to succeed.
Now, you could argue this is purely my interpretation and that the character needs to speak more for herself. But again—is that really necessary?

It is pretty necessary—because based on what I saw, I can interpret that character in a way that is completely opposite to yours, and I'd be 100% right, just like you. In my view, she isn't some "fair person" struggling with a chemical imbalance or clinical depression. She's just someone who doesn't want to work; she'd much rather stay home and collect a paycheck. But life happens, and her husband pushes her to try returning to work—something she does reluctantly for the rest of the film, to the point where at one stage, she'd seemingly rather die than move a muscle. Then the boss nearly screws her over by offering the job back, but thanks to his clumsiness, he leaves her an opening to reject it under the guise of her own "moral uprightness."

That's why this kind of directorial ambiguity fails—regardless of anyone claiming the charm lies in being able to interpret the film however you want. First, my interpretation definitely wasn't the filmmaker's intent; second, when I watch a movie, I'm willing to listen to the director. I feel cheated if the most they can offer me is pointing fingers in random directions.

Dennis Martin6 said:The Dardenne brothers make traditional realist films. Their whole goal is basically to convince you that what’s happening on screen is "reality."

But movies like 'Jeanne Dielman,' 'm/other,' or parts of 'Cafe Noir'—those are actually portraying something more like 'hyper-reality.' They use those ultra-realistic, documentary-style techniques to actually point back at their own artificiality.

Now, 'Jeanne Dielman' isn't a bad movie by any means, but when it comes to that specific realm of cinematic 'hyper-reality' and documentary-style pacing, I still think Olmi is the heavy hitter. Take 'Il Posto,' for example—it's half the length of Akerman's work, but in my eyes, it's twice as good.

Avoiding cuts and ellipses in these kinds of films feels like the logical path to take, but honestly, it's a pretty gutsy directorial move—especially when you consider how much power and utility editing usually provides. These directors are essentially playing with the audience's nerves on purpose. Both Akerman and Olmi really knew what they were doing there, though; they prepared us for that rhythm and then forced us right into it.

You explained that distinction really well, even if they all technically trace their roots back to neorealism.

Jamie Davis9 said:Great, thanks. Now I'm wondering about this:
is this just a way of trapping characters and situations to create an impression of ordinariness, like northerncrane4 was saying, or is it some hyper-realistic move to redirect the audience's focus onto something outside the character itself?

I'm leaning towards the first one. Take 'm/other'—it’s basically all banal dialogue, but every now and then you get these tiny meta-film outbursts that break through the documentary feel, creating tension and making you question if what you're seeing is even real. You don't see that stuff with the Dardenne brothers.

hiddenbear4 said:''Jeanne Dielman'' isn't a bad movie, but when it comes to that feature film ''hyper-reality'' and documentary style, Olmi is still the heavyweight for me. For instance, ''Il Posto'' is half the length of Akerman's, but it's twice as good.

Never seen 'Il Posto,' but are you sure it actually breaks away from the typical neo-realist mold? 'Jeanne Dielman' isn't a neo-realist film to begin with.

hiddenbear4 said:You explained that distinction well, but they're all just children of neo-realism.

Yeah, and sometimes kids outgrow their parents. 😉

northerncrane4 said:It’s actually pretty essential, because based on what we just saw, I’m going to interpret that character in a way that's completely different from how you did—and I’ll be 100% right, just as you are. See, this woman isn't some "fair" person suffering through clinical depression due to a chemical imbalance. She simply doesn't want to work; she'd much rather stay home and collect a paycheck. But life happens, and her husband pushes her to try getting back into the workforce, which she does reluctantly for the rest of the movie—though at one point, she’s so checked out she’d practically rather end it all than move an inch. In the end, the boss almost screws her over by offering her the job back, but thank God he’s clumsy enough to leave her a loophole where she can reject it under the guise of her own moral integrity.

That’s why this kind of authorial ambiguity doesn't really work for me, no matter how much people argue that the charm lies in being able to interpret a film however you want. First off, my interpretation definitely wasn't the filmmaker's intention. Secondly, when I watch a movie, I want to listen to what the director has to say; I feel cheated if the most they can offer me is just pointing fingers in random directions.

There goes your interpretation again—which is good, but the woman is just acting the way she acts. Why start from the director's premise that this is a question of life and death? Maybe they don't see it that way. Maybe she perceives a distorted, non-existent dilemma—a false assumption about herself. If that's the case, can we really see the hand of the author there? Without even getting into the film's overall cohesion or the supporting characters who build up the lead, you could argue the same for Birdman—that there is no true dilemma regarding the downfall of a superhero on Broadway—who cares? Though, of course, I won't try to predict the satirical dimension of the film...

Dennis Martin6 said:I haven't actually seen 'Il Posto,' but are you sure it really steps outside the typical neorealist mold? I mean, 'Jeanne Dielman' isn't exactly a neorealist film.

Now, look—I really should go back and rewatch them to compare based on the criteria you laid out, but to me, ''Il Posto'' feels like the absolute peak of documentary filmmaking disguised as a pure feature. Or, even better, take an Olmi example like ''time to stand still.'' If you were to stack that up against some classic neorealism—say, something like ''Bicycle Thieves''—you'd definitely notice the difference in how much more documentary-style it is, especially with that sense of de-dramatization. So, yeah, you could argue it’s a step above or moves away from the traditional pattern. Plus, there are clear differences in the thematic focus too. In my eyes, those are the boundaries of feature films—it's almost like they're testing the genre itself. I think when you push those limits like that, you're definitely moving beyond the realm of a standard narrative film.

By the way, where and how would you fit Bresson into this whole conversation?

Dennis Martin6 said:If you ask me, this first one is different; say, 'm/other' is built almost entirely out of these incredibly mundane dialogues, yet every so often, that documentary fabric gets punctured by these tiny meta-filmic outbursts that build tension and make you question if what you're seeing is even real. You just don't see that kind of thing from the Dardenne brothers.

That’s exactly what I was thinking. Thanks for confirming.

Anyone got a link for the movie?

I rarely post anything here because I usually just end up getting trashed, laughed at, or ignored, haha. Probably going to happen again this time, but whatever...

Anyway, around New Year's Day, I stumbled upon "The Kid with a Bike" on TV. Out of pure boredom, I started watching it, thinking it was just another mediocre TV movie. At first, I was convinced any amateur could shoot something like this. The script felt unremarkable too. But as the film progressed, I realized it’s pure art. All that hype around Nolan or Tarantino feels like posturing—I'm convinced only the truly gifted can take near-ordinary life situations and turn them into something with "that certain something," where anyone with half a heart finds themselves breathing in sync with the protagonist.

The same applies to "Two Days, One Night." You might initially think anyone could make a film like this, but sooner or later, you realize you were wrong. Well, unless you start looking at her from the very first second as an irritating whiner. In that case, it's obvious the movie will be overrated trash to you, simply because you lack the one thing required to watch it: empathy.
That scene where that French song plays in the car, and the camera just lingers on her face for a full minute, is one of the most emotional moments I've ever seen (maybe right behind that final scene in The Deer Hunter).

Personally, I believe the whole point of living is to leave the world just a little bit better than you found it. I think the Dardenne brothers definitely succeed at that. Their point is perfect—never do something that makes life harder for someone else. Even if it means my own family's survival is on the line. If I needed a tax credit for my kids, I wouldn't take it if it meant hurting someone else. If I care about my children, I'll figure it out—if I have to, I'll just drink water, eat cheap hot dogs, and wear knockoff clothes. I'll make my own life harder, but I won't make someone else's. In the end, she knows she'll lose her apartment because she can't afford it. Her life will be significantly tougher, but at least she isn't making it harder for anyone else. She knew that, and that's why the film ended the best way possible—with a smile on her face.

northerncrane4 said:But what exactly are you expecting from a system like that? For it to babysit every single individual? That's just not how things work. A system exists to serve the largest possible group of people sharing common ground. In a Western social structure, if the lead character doesn't fit into the mold, there's always another system waiting to absorb her.

I expect exactly what’s happening from that system. From the next one, I’d expect it not to create these mess situations in the first place. Why even offer a bonus just to snatch someone else's job? What kind of "ideal" American social system creates these kinds of dilemmas? It’s standard—that’s just the limit of our society. If it were better, we wouldn't be talking about this problem. The real question is whether she’s a victim of the system or if she’s just responsible for her own mess. Based on your take, you're saying she's on her own.

I said that tackling a social issue in this specific way—the way these filmmakers do it—inevitably involves some festival pandering. Purely empirical. Because that’s what wins awards. They touch on a theme without actually engaging with it. What this movie does, again, isn't exploring a theme; it's just stating it.

So the movie doesn't deal with solidarity? It just records a situation and calls it a day?

By living and acting within the world of The Dardenne brothers. Whereas they don't live or act in their protagonist's world.

I live in that world too, yet I still disagree with you. Can you explain that without using some "trust me, I'm right" fallacy? Is the message just artificial or what?

Yeah, but those people have issues too, and sometimes those issues landed them where they are now. Maybe they have an excuse for acting that way—at least an excuse for themselves. That's worth looking at. If you aren't going to dive into those questions like The Dardenne brothers do.

Everyone has their reasons for everything; that much is obvious. The sticking point is whether those reasons have any moral legitimacy. You're basically forcing a deterministic worldview here. When you say they might have their reasons, it raises the question: are they just playing out assigned roles, or are they exercising free will? If it's the latter, then yeah, they're probably just assholes.