The Two Faces of January, by Hossein Amini

At first glance, The Two Faces of January flows like a colorful Hitchcockian tale. 

The poster spoke for itself: close-ups of our three leads (Kirsten Dunst, Viggo Mortensen and Oscar Isaac), well groomed and attractive as ever. Their importance in the poster matches their dominance in the plot. Mortensen is staged right in the foreground, Dunst isn’t far behind on the left, and Isaac is in the background. We notice the different directions of their gaze which will be a recurring theme in the film. Viggo stares into the horizon, Dunst looks at Viggo and Isaac is facing the other way, but he glares back at both characters (and perhaps us too). His sunglasses restrict us from identifying the exact direction of his eye-sight. The poster gives a striking impression of déjà-vu, and you get an immediate sense of what the film will be and what to expect – a love triangle deprived from any form of originality. Looks can be deceiving, and one can’t judge a film by it’s opening scenes.

The film begins in the ancient ruins of the Parthenon in Athens, where the married couple, Colette (Dunst) and Chester (Mortensen) MacFarland are enjoying a casual stroll. The camera then pans to Rydal (Isaac) who is giving a tour to a group of young women. Within the first five minutes, we are introduced to the who and where: a wealthy couple vacationing in Greece, and a young handsome American man, fluent in Greek. The when is in the title and the costumes, “January” and the 1960s, and the what is yet to come. Regrettably, the why remains unknown. However, let us not forget that this was Hossein Amini’s directorial debut, and without a doubt a challenging one, particularly for the continuous plot twists, abundance of themes, main characters and locations. The story was also based on one of Patricia Highsmith's weakest novels (compared to the groundbreaking, Talented Mr. Ripley, and Strangers on a Train) But before I drift off into any further cynicism, let me return to more precise reasons for my accusations. 

Colette is the female lead, and plays the role of the mediator from a very early point on in the film. As soon as Chester mentions Rydal to Colette (he notices Rydal frequently looking at him, we learn that Chester reminded him of his recently deceased father), we are introduced to his lack of trust, which will soon turn to his dark side. Colette, willing to avoid conflict, passively approaches Rydal to question him. Rydal is an American expat who gives tours in the city. He seems good enough to her, so she decides to hire him. Chester is resilient but accepts nonetheless.

Colette MacFarland (Kirsten Dunst) 

                                    

                                       Chester MacFarland (Viggo Mortensen)

                                                         Rydal  (Oscar Isaac)

The next day, following a dinner altogether, the light-heartedness of the story takes a much more serious route. 

The genre immediately shifts from romance to crime/thriller. We are also introduced to a horror-like aspect, since crime and suspense take place at night, in dark caves or through the appearance of Chester’s true colors/deamons (seen through his bad temper and alcoholism)– which would explain the cinematography by Marcel Zyskind (28 Days Later, Dancer in the Dark).

The couple is disturbed by a private detective who knocks at their hotel door in the middle of the night. His name is Paul Vittorio (played by David Warhovsky, Taken, There will be Blood). He is armed, and wishes to speak to Chester alone. We soon discover that Chester is corrupt and owes money to many of Paul’s clients. He manages to defeat the private detective by accidently killing him. He lies to Colette, and tells her Vittorio is merely knocked out. He then sets off to drag the dead detective back to his room. 

On the way, Rydal catches him in the corridor (he was headed to the couple’s room to return Colette’s lost bracelet). Chester bribes Rydal, offering him a large sum of money to help them escape. He accepts, and the tumultuous adventures start here.

Chester, drinks himself silly and is eaten alive by jealousy. He doesn’t believe anyone, although this appears to be very ironic as he is not only a liar (to his wife and clients) but also a corrupt thief. Therefore his approach to “drink and forget”, and constant passive aggression is very shallow in my opinion. We can see through him from the beginning and there is no mystery involved. His death marks the end of the film. He gets shot in the back, after being pursued by Rydal, along with the police. The scene is a worthy of a déjà-vu Greek tragedy ending, corny and dramatic as ever. Chester is dying, practically in Rydal’s arms at this point, and he admits to his crimes and faults. Amini was saved by casting Viggo Mortenson, who despite Chester MacFarland’s overly dramatic character traits, still managed to make his character seem somewhat convincing, given his charisma and brilliance.

Rydal is the radical black and white opposite of Chester. He is the rebellious "career student" who went to Yale. Needless to say, it comes as a surprise that his character would have so little to offer. Amini’s characters are too obvious from the start due to their excessive actions. Rydal displays no emotion, unless an occasional smile. He shows irritation for the first time, when Chester and Colette fight at a café in Crete. This appears to be the only clue we have so far to his interest in Colette. Were we meant to think otherwise beforehand? If so, it wasn’t clear. Chester suspected it but we trusted Rydal more than jealous drunken Chester. It felt like Rydal was far more interested in the money than Colette (as he doesn’t hesitate to bargain for more), and the other reason for helping the couple is because Chester reminds him of his father. We also see a radical change in personality when he tracks Chester down following the murder of Colette, and his attempt to kill him.

Rydal is ambiguous, but only because his character should of been better written. At the end, he is set free but we are unable to have any sympathy, nor can we identify with his character. We are left with too many unanswered questions about his true identity: What were his true intentions with the couple? Did he really go to Yale? Did he sleep with Colette? We end up loosing interest in him in the end.

Colette doesn’t have much more to offer than her good looks and her role as a mediator, but this is acceptable as the story is not about her, but the “two faces,” the duo that Chester and Rydal form following her death. The title is based on the reference to the two-headed Greek god Janus, who looks in opposite directions. Once more, we think of the poster, and the excessive use of point of view shots in the film. We also see this with shot reverse/shot patterns, at a very early point on in the film (when Chester notices Rydal sitting down at the ruins the first time, and the café when he sits with Colette at a table near Rydal). Rydal and Chester represent Janus, who become enemies tied by their faith.

In short, however complex the characters seek out to be, a much further development would of done the plot justice as opposed to a constant emphasis on their actions versus location of which there were too many: Athens, Crete, Tunisia… In Drive, Amini proved to us that he was capable to reflect on a troubled conflicted character by successfully discerning the tremendous “good” and “bad” of his personality. The real complexity of his character stimulated our interest in him. Perhaps this was less challenging for him as the plot concentrated on the “Driver” character in Drive, as opposed to three distinct ones. In The Two Faces of January, the characters are stereotypes of emotions, and we never end up knowing where their true value of integrity stands.

Another striking mistake in the plot, is when Chester and Colette leave their passport behind at the first hotel they stay in. They were meant to leave the next day anyways, so it’s difficult to believe that they wouldn’t wait to retrieve them at the check-out. Any tourist in the world would hang on to their passport for dear life. It’s illogical that they didn’t, and could lead us to believe that Amini was using this faux-pas to transition to a conclusion more easily. It’s hard to think of such a crucial misconception as simply a mistake in the script.

I have rarely sat through what seemed to be the longest credits ever for a film. I couldn’t help but feel disappointed with this imbalance between the result of the film and the amount of people who worked to create it. I have already partly forgotten the film, only a few hours after having watched it. Perhaps this was also due to my confusion, I wasn’t sure who the targeted audience really was.