Criterion Must-Watch: ‘The Double Life of Veronique’

Do you ever find yourself sifting through your numerous streamer subscriptions and left feeling underwhelmed? Are you tired of rewatching Red Notice for the twelfth time? Would you like to class things up a bit? Fret not because we at Hue Watched It will be your shepherd through the digital wasteland.  

The Criterion Collection has been distributing domestic and international films for 40 years through home media and their streaming service The Criterion Channel. Criterion has a much-earned reputation for being the home of arthouse cinema by curating and restoring some of the greatest films of all time reaching as far back as 1921. The Criterion Channel currently streams thousands of feature films but that can feel a bit daunting. Where do you begin? That’s where we step in.

For the Criterion Must-Watch series, we will be selecting films available either on The Criterion Channel streaming service or through The Criterion Collection’s physical releases, including DVDs, 4Ks, or Blu-rays, to encourage you to expand your cinematic palette. To kick off the series, we’re starting with a film that is a bit more abstract and less conventional than what most filmgoers may be used to: The Double Life of Veronique.

The plot of The Double Life of Veronique can be easily summarized, but doing so takes away the unique experience the film creates. If I think a film is an extraordinary watch, I tend to lean on the word “experience” because there are certain movies that you mindlessly consume and others you feel. Even if you find difficulty in nestling into the narrative, The Double Life of Veronique will linger with you long after you’ve watched it.

What is the movie about? The title gives it away… sort of. Irène Jacob plays two different women: Weronika and Véronique from Poland and France respectively. Though they are both autonomous, the women are somehow mystically tethered.   This isn’t a Jean-Claude Van Damme, Double Impact situation (also released in 1991) where Jacob plays karate-kicking twins separated at birth (the ‘90s were really everything). Both women look the same, share the same affinity for music, and have a thing for men who look 10 years their senior. However, there’s a deeper connection between the two that neither can fully grasp.

From a story perspective, The Double Life of Veronique is about the two making their way through their separate lives until a twist of ill fate sets them on a journey of discovering meaning. Véronique becomes captivated by a mysterious marionettist (Philippe Volter) by seeing his vivid expressions while he is puppeteering. You’ll wonder if Weronika and Véronique will ever learn of each other, or if it’s possible to fall in love with someone that you’ve said nine words to. The women are in search of and the audience, just like the women, are left wondering what’s around the bend.

Director Krzysztof Kieślowski (who was nominated for Best Director and Best Original Screenplay at the 67th Academy Awards for 1994’s Three Colors: Red, which also stars Jacob) never wants to show his hand. In showing and not telling, the viewer is left to ponder but is given room to consider what they would do if there were a doppelgänger of themselves living their own lives. Would you be happy that you share that intrinsic and unique connection with another human being, or would you think of yourself as less than special? Couple the emotionality with the film’s gorgeous cinematography and dramatic music score, and you’re left with a radiant film.

The color palette of Double Life is radical: we move effortlessly through balmy reds, electric yellows, and burgeoning greens. While the photography and score are robust and add great artistic flair, the performances play on a low register in the best way possible, particularly from Irène Jacob. In her double role, she feels her way through complex feelings of love, loss, grief, curiosity, and intuition.

The Double Life of Veronique feels almost sensual because we feel more than we are explained. When something touches you, it causes a reaction that sometimes can’t be easily translated. Kieślowski understood that we don’t necessarily need the details of why we are here; we are just here. We may not know why we are connected, we just are.