Masami Nagasawa is applaudably unlikable as an adulterous author with a resistance to motherhood, who invites her husband and girlfriend to conceive a child together in a tantalizing proposition that pulls too many of its punches. The sophomore feature from Hirokazu Kore-eda protégé Nanako Hirose, “Between Two Lovers” tackles a variety of potential hot-button issues, from polyamorous relationships to same-sex parenting, in its contemporary Japanese setting. The film stars Masami Nagasawa as a free-spirited children’s author who invites her doting husband and secret girlfriend to enter into a three-way relationship of convenience, when both partners simultaneously express their desire to start a family.
But what begins as a bold and daring attempt to broach progressive issues in a notoriously conservative society ultimately loses its nerve, acquiescing to a number of eyebrow-raising narrative compromises. Internationally recognizable talent both above and below the line should ensure that “Between Two Lovers” travels far beyond its debut in Competition at the Busan Film Festival, but more progressive audiences may be left frustrated by where Hirose leaves them. Uta (Nagasawa) has built a comfortable life for herself and her husband Morio (Tasuku Emoto), thanks to the popularity of her “Little Miss Mushroom” series of picture books.
While her work regularly brings her into close proximity with children, Uta has little interest in starting a family of her own. Conversely, Morio is desperate to have kids, but any effort to discuss the topic with his wife is quickly dismissed. Little does he know, Uta has also been involved in a passionate six-year affair with her female editor, Junna (Shizuka Ishibashi), and happily flits back and forth between her two homes, beds, and lovers.
Junna is eager to become a mother, although several legal barriers prevent her from accessing sperm donations or fertility treatment. She also wants Uta to accept her sexuality and get a divorce, so that they can live together openly. Everything comes to a head when Morio invites Junna over for dinner, under the misapprehension that he is extending an olive branch to the colleague who demands so much of his wife’s time.
The compounding frustrations of this situation, fueled by too much alcohol, finally expose Uta’s double life. However, desperate to enjoy all the benefits of her unconventional and self-serving situation, without shouldering any of the blame, Uta proposes that Morio be the donor for Junna’s child, and that all three of them move in together. Hirose, who also writes and edits, has constructed a brilliantly volatile scenario, vulnerable to any number of potentially explosive and destructive dramatic developments.
Disappointingly, her screenplay proceeds to unfold in a procession of frustrating get-outs and compromises, repeatedly choosing the least interesting or challenging direction to take this would-be throuple. The archaic legal restrictions restricting same-sex couples or unmarried women, for example, are acknowledged and adhered to, rather than being openly challenged or criticized. The film certainly expresses an interest in the shifting dynamics of this unconventional unit, especially once Junna does fall pregnant and moves into the family home.
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