‘The Other Laurens’ Review: A Belgian Detective Drama That’s a Little Too Shaggy-Dog

As a seasoned film aficionado who’s seen his fair share of neo-noir mysteries and French cinematic masterpieces, I must confess that “The Other Laurens” left me with a peculiar mix of intrigue and bewilderment. This film is like a chameleon, shifting tones from one scene to the next, sometimes enticingly offbeat and other times frustratingly hazy.


In “The Other Laurens,” there’s no character named Lauren, but instead, we have twin brothers: François and Gabriel Laurens (Olivier Rabourdin), one of whom has passed away. Claude Schmitz’s intricate neo-noir, titled “L’Autre Laurens” in French, which rolls off the tongue more appealingly than its English translation, is a suspenseful tale about identity, exploring how it can be misunderstood and fabricated. The protagonist, a private detective struggling, delves into unraveling his own identity from that of his departed twin, a challenge far greater than solving the mystery of the deceased’s fate.

François met an unfortunate end in a car crash, leading one to believe his demise was straightforward. However, as with any mystery novel, the initial query is whether the crash truly was accidental, and typically, the response is predictable. Upon encountering twin Gabriel for the first time, François’ seemingly nonchalant widow (Kate Moran) remarks, “It’s like seeing him again, but slightly blurred.” This sentiment could also apply to the movie itself, at times becoming tantalizingly enigmatic and other times merely confusing. At moments, “The Other Laurens” seems to echo the manner in which “The Big Lebowski” and “Inherent Vice” twist noir tropes for humor, but unlike those films, this isn’t a humorous production.

Occasionally, the jumble of tones in this film can be intriguing on its own merit. Unlike many films of this genre, where suspense stems from the narrative itself, here the real enigma lies in understanding the movie’s intentions. The atmosphere varies dramatically from scene to scene, and at times, it even switches drastically. When “The Other Laurens” allows its mood and style to lead the way, it can be wonderfully eccentric. However, as it delves deeper into seriousness, it loses effectiveness—particularly during a dramatic monologue that unexpectedly connects a moment from what seemed like Gabriel’s worst day with the tragic events of 9/11.

The main issues in the story don’t arise from Gabriel actively investigating but rather from shady individuals mistakenly identifying him as François, a man with a far-from-squeaky-clean past. Despite being drawn unwillingly into most of the events that befall him, including the case of mistaken identity to uncover the truth, Gabriel fails to fully develop his character arc. Although reluctance can be a characteristic of captivating protagonists, Gabriel’s growth seems insufficient, arriving too late in the story, particularly for Louise Leroy, his estranged niece who now finds herself without any other options.

However, Florian Berutti’s photography in “The Other Laurens” is truly exceptional, imbuing the movie with a strong ’70s ambiance. The vivid colors and warm, inviting neon lights of nighttime create striking visuals that seem to blur the lines between reality and dreamlike states. This effect is especially noticeable when cars appear on screen; their red headlight reflections dance around the frame like glowing orbs, hinting at an ethereal presence that the film struggles to fully encompass.

If all other aspects of the film had been equally strong, it could have served as a shining example of its genre instead of a peculiar oddity that raises eyebrows. Perhaps other films directed by Laurens might have held one’s attention for the full two-hour duration.

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2024-08-28 00:16