Nothing busts canons quite like living in interesting times. In our ongoing Inflection Point series, we look back at the films that have taken on new relevance due to our ongoing cultural and political upheaval. Some beloved, some undiscovered, these titles deserve newfound consideration as film criticism evolves to meet the moment.
Over the past month, we’ve watched the world slowly come to realize what the word “essential” truly means for the global economy. In many instances, our essential employees are also the ones that are paid the least, often with minimal job security. And as frontline employees around the country fight for better working conditions and increased safety precautions, these employees become causalities of the corporate policies that are meant to protect companies from those same voices.
This imbalance of power sometimes serves as the inspiration for scathing class polemics in cinema. Still, not every story worth telling is one of revolution. For many, the day-to-day reality of struggling within a capitalist society may look a lot like “Two Days, One Night,” the 2014 feature from Belgian filmmakers, brothers Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne. In this film, the Dardennes show how these systems work to undermine those most in need of reform. They also show how, in an environment devoid of compassion, small acts of empathy might be our saving grace.
“Two Days, One Night” may have arrived at the tail end of an unprecedented French recession, but the hardships depicted in the film are not presented as a uniquely 21st-century problem. The idea for the film originated in the 2000 academic text The Weight of the World: Social Suffering in Contemporary Society, which featured case studies of class discrimination from around the globe. “The book had probably 15 case studies and 15 analyses, and one of these stories was a worker cast aside because of the influence of managers, who got the other workers to agree to push him aside,” Jean-Pierre Dardenne told the New York Times in 2014. “Luc and I talked about this story numerous times, and we just never could get it off the ground. Until other factors tied into it.”
In their version of that case study, the worker is Sandra (Marion Cotillard, who received an Academy Award nomination for her role). While on disability leave from a local factory, Sandra learns that her company has convinced her coworkers to dissolve her position. When prompted to choose between a hefty bonus or Sandra’s immediate return, her coworkers reluctantly select the bonus. This forces Sandra to embark on a weekend-long campaign to convince her colleagues, one at a time, that they should reconsider their vote for Monday’s final ballot. If they again choose the bonus, Sandra will be formally let go, and her family’s home may be forfeit.
Throughout the film, Sandra wages a lonely war against depression. One of the most painful elements of “Two Days, One Night” is how ill-prepared Sandra’s friends and family members are to help her cope. Like many other invisible illnesses, Sandra’s depression is not constant. Her mental health ebbs and flows throughout the film, and, as a result, her support group struggles to be a steadying influence in her life. Her husband, Manu (Fabrizio Rongione), is encouraging and loving, but he also rushes her into unhealthy confrontations with her coworkers. As a result, her moods are prone to deterioration, which forces Manu to push her that much harder for fear of losing her job.
Her coworkers are even less sure of how to address her recovery. In one scene, Hicham – one of the people Sandra is unable to rally to her cause – admits that foreman Jean-Marc had suggested that Sandra now offered diminished value to the factory. Hicham tried to push back. “I wasn’t any weaker after my accident,” he explains. “I was more motivated, remember?” Hicham means well, of course, but he fails to recognize that mental illness is not necessarily something you fully recover from over time. Meanwhile, those who do understand the battle Sandra faces worry that she may no longer be up to the task.
This ignorance makes Sandra particularly vulnerable to the machinations of Jean-Marc, the factory foreman who launches an overt campaign against her return. From forcing an open ballot vote on her dismissal – thereby pressuring voters into siding with the company’s preferred outcome – to spreading lies about potential downsizing, Jean-Marc provides the veneer of a democratic process. The tragedy, of course, is that Jean-Marc is situated far closer to the factory works than the corporate bosses. It is Dumont, the factory supervisor, who wields the real power at the factory, but – as is so often the case – he never feels the need to get his hands dirty when it comes to personnel decisions.
READ MORE: The Dardenne Brothers Discuss Their Polarizing Film ‘Young Ahmed’ [Interview]
“Two Days, One Night” is not a film that glamorizes poverty. There is no quiet sense of pride in the working-class families that Sandra visits, only a sense that they are one missed paycheck – or one withheld bonus – away from watching their own lives fall apart. Most of the people Sandra visits over the weekend are engaged in a second job. Willy repairs and resells old tiling; Hicham works under-the-table at a local grocery store; Timur coaches youth soccer. Some households feature multiple generations under the same roof, while others frantically downsize to find the tipping point between their earnings and their family expenses.
When they talk of the things their bonuses can buy, they speak of education costs, utility bills, and necessary living expenses. We may balk at the idea that coworkers would sell each other out for a thousand euros, but each coworker demonstrates just how much of a difference that bonus could mean to their monthly expenses. “Two Days, One Night” never looks down on its characters for these decisions. More often than not, the characters themselves are wracked with guilt, almost relieved to see Sandra and have an opportunity to change their vote.
This paycheck-to-paycheck approach gives “Two Days, One Night” an all-too-recognizable aura of resignation. Sandra’s conversations with her coworkers often feature the same dialogue – she argues that it wasn’t her choice to make her coworkers choose, they point out that the same could be said for them – but these exchanges lack any real anger. Sandra’s primary emotion is shame. She is ashamed that she must beg for her job, and she is ashamed that she must ask her coworkers to accept less money to keep her position open. A different sort of film might have put the onus back on Jean-Marc or Dumont, but the people who comprise “Two Days, One Night” are balanced too precariously to worry about solidarity. They feel for Sandra, but their own families must come first.
It’s a minor miracle, then, that the Dardennes can construct an uplifting ending that fits within the economic confines of this story. When Dumont announces to Sandra that he will be rehiring her once a contract employee is terminated, Sandra is finally given a small opportunity to take control. Dumont’s sudden change-of-heart not only demonstrates the arbitrary nature of the bonus-or-retainment ultimatum, but it also requires Sandra to sacrifice the job security of a contract employee so she can retain a position that makes her deeply unhappy. Her act of defiance serves as a rejection of every “feel-good” newspaper headline that celebrates coworkers pooling together sick days for their ill colleagues. In her small way, she breaks the wheel.
Made as an explicit allegory for social suffering, “Two Days, One Night” gently dramatizes the plight of countless frontline workers across the country. What do you do when you cannot afford to leave a job that proves dangerous to your wellbeing? And how do you stand up to companies who treat you as disposable assets? The Dardennes may not have an answer for either question, but they recognize the importance of asking them, and they’re determined to make you care. Sometimes, art only needs to remind us of the real-life battles waiting to be fought.