‘Coward’ review: Lukas Dhont’s queer WWI romantic drama hits Cannes

Timing is everything.

It is just pure happenstance that I was asked about a month ago to moderate a conversation with Ann-Margret at a USO ceremony honoring her for all the shows she did for the military and our people in uniform, primarily Vietnam near the start of her career. I had not focused on the mission of the USO much before but I realized that day how important entertainment, singing and dancing, the lighter side of life was for troops in the dark unforgiving harshness of war, any war.

Cut to this week when I saw a preview of Lukas Dhont‘s competition entry, Coward, which just had its official premiere tonight at the Cannes Film Festival. Set in 1914 during WWI it is a war film in name only, more a celebration of a human need to sing, to dance even in the most unimaginably horrific of circumstances as all these young men find themselves on the battlefields.

Inspired by an old photograph Dhont saw of a soldier dressed as a woman in the midst of WWI, Coward imagines a wider story of troops entertained by fellow soldiers performing as gorgeous women in dresses, cleverly stitched together from parachutes, doing the Can-Can, singing their hearts out, turning desolate fields of battle into a temporary night club, if only for a wonderful moment. So that is the setting Dhont has created. Within it though is a classic movie love story for the ages, in this case a queer romance that in cinematic terms feels as universal, and as impossible, as Casablanca, Brief Encounter, and The Way We Were.

Although there is a large cast of men in this film (not a single woman in sight) , Dhont, and his co-screenwriter Angelo Tijssens have essentially created a two-hander, the story of two soldiers, Pierre (Emmanuel Macchia) and Francis (Valentin Campagne) drawn together, one quiet and curious, the other a showman who is outgoing and seductive. We first see just how flamboyant Francis can be when he lands in the middle of a large group of soldiers enthusiastically cheering him on as he pretends to be giving birth. It is a wild, rather joyous episode that catches the attention of Pierre, someone who is the opposite, shyly conveying almost everything with his eyes, words not necessary as he observes this “show”. Francis is, as it turns out, the main driver of the revues created for his fellow soldiers to help make them forget the terror lurking all around them. Pierre is part of that very masculine audience applauding anything with a feminine touch even if it is men providing it. This is a drag show out of necessity.

It takes a while but eventually Pierre and Francis connect, again no dialogue needed, and this is the beginning of a slow-burning romance, both clearly driven by a need for emotional human connection even if Francis knows it first, likely a first experience with real love for each.

In between the shows is sadly the reality of war that we witness as these troupes, including Francis and Pierre, tasked with carrying the corpses of others not so lucky, organizing them, lining them up to be taken away. The contrast is striking but that is life and death in any war, over a century ago, or raging in Ukraine right now no doubt.

Dhont’s camera (Frank Van den Eeden is the exceptional cinematographer) doesn’t shy away from any of this, but this is a film set in war that has its clear focus on those young souls caught up in it who are finding a way, however briefly, back to their own desires and needs at the same time serving a country and purpose. For Pierre it gets very complicated. He is a man, a boy really, conflicted about what he is doing and the violence around him. This leads to agonizing personal decisions and the film’s ironic title. And like in any classic screen romance, well as I said, it gets complicated.

Dhont has been to Cannes twice before with the only other two films he has made. In 2018 he won the Cameria d’Or for Girl. In 2022 he won the Grand Prix for his extraordinary second film, Close. The promise of those films is again met with this one, a story of young men thrown into a battle, no explanation necessarily provided with most never having experienced the true joys of life, love, or even what it’s all about. The lively fun revues give them, and even the generals sitting in the front row, a moment to forget the hell enveloping them. Though queer encounters were taboo in this time, Dhont’s story believably provides one with an emotional one off in the shadows of a war they never asked for.

The casting here, as in Dhont’s previous two films, is inspired for a movie, like all movie love stories, that must have that hard-to-define chemistry or the whole souffle falls. A chance encounter with Macchia led to his eventual selection as Pierre, and he is a fresh talent who instinctively seems to realize the essence of great screen acting is in the eyes. We need few words to see exactly what is going on with him at all times. Campagne, on the other hand, puts it all out there, using seductive showstopping sexuality in sly ways that recall the M.C.in Cabaret, but in quieter moments a person who is longing simply for human touch and companionship, but at the same time knowing the show is just a temporary distraction in order to make it out alive. He is sensational.

Adding to the splendid visual look of the film is pitch-perfect production design from Eve Martin, and the wonderfully inventive costume design from Isabel Van Rentergem. Shout out to choreographer Nora Monsecour for the amusing staged choreography as well.

In the end, no matter what subject matter he chooses to explore, it seems Lukas Dhont in his brief filmography has proven to be a filmmaker whose eye is on people and what makes us who we are. That is a rare talent much needed in these daunting times. Coward may be a story taking place in war, but it is set firmly in the human heart.

Title: Coward
Festival: Cannes (Competition)
Director: Lukas Dhont
Screenwriters: Lukas Dhont, Angelo Tijssens
Cast: Emmanuel Macchia, Valentin Campagne
Running time: 2 hr 5 mins
Sales agent: Match Factory