This was my first ever Dardenne Brothers directed film, and it certainly won't be my last. Two Days, One Night is the definition of naturalistic filmmaking. The premise is painfully simple, the cinematography is wonderfully understated and the performances are incredible.

Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication.

As with most things that appear elegantly simple, much goes on beneath the surface.

Firstly, the premise of the film: Sandra is getting laid off from her job, but if she can convince a majority of 16 colleagues to forgo their €1000 bonus, she can keep her job. She has two days, and one night to accomplish this.

For anyone who writes and struggles coming up with ideas, stories or premises, this film is annoyingly, elegantly, infuriatingly simple. "Why didn't I come up with that? It's so obvious!" However, just because the premise is wonderfully simple, does not mean that the film itself is solely that. In 95 minutes, you come to learn and genuinely empathise with Sandra, engrossed in each of her encounters with the colleagues. This is the first stroke of genius - the writing. Sandra recites the same basic dialogue structure so many times that each time there is a single word or new sentence in a new confrontation, it adds a whole new layer of nuance to the underpinning emotions of the scene. (An example of this is when Sandra starts saying that she has more people left to see than she does - by doing so, the audience see she has become more desperate, as well as manipulative and brave.) From that point on, the individual person's personality, relationship with the protagonist and social and economic situation are revealed naturally. Each character exists as a well-formed individual, due to the stellar direction, as well as acting as a foil for Sandra's character.

Sandra. Marion Cotillard. Words do not begin to describe her performance in this film - and that is exactly why it's so excellent. Cotillard translates her characters emotions through the screen, into the viewer, triggering the shared latent emotions we all have had to varying degrees. She is one of the most empathic actress to ever grace the silver screen. Though she is undoubtedly The Marion Cotillard, she was a completely different person in Rust And Bone than in this film. At the beginning of the film, her displays of weakness border on overly theatrical - until you realise it's her character adding a bit of theatricality into her emotions. When she smiles, you smile - I dare you not to. Cotillard even manages to modulate her voice depending on the tone of the conversation, allowing a scene of her talking on the telephone without hearing the response riveting. When she shakes hands with colleagues, you can feel through the screen that her handshake is weak.

The reason why the cinematography works so well is the hardest to pin down. It has a consistent style, which helps: constantly yet subtly handheld, a style that places the viewer in the time and place of the action, creating a natural spacial and temporal relationship for the viewer. This leads to logical spatial continuity - without the viewer ever realising it.

“If someone asked, ‘What did you think of the photography?’ and the reply was, ‘I don’t know. I didn’t notice it,’ then I would feel I had succeeded.” -Jack Cardiff, ASC, BSC

This film is an excellent example of conservative cutting. That is to say, cut only when you have to. Scenes with no dialogue somehow become more effective and affecting by an absence of cuts - for example, a crucial scene where Sandra makes a life-changing decision, made me more uneasy than most horror films.

Image Credit: Cinéart