If you’re about to see a movie whose title is prefixed with the generic marker “Just Another,” odds are it won’t be “just another” anything except a strenuous exercise in subverting the tropes of said genre. This titular quirk may be just a function of rough translation, but Danish filmmaker Ole Bornedal (director of Nightwatch — both the original and U.S. remake) lives up to his English title with Just Another Love Story, a coolly modulated mistaken-identity amour fou bruised and bloodied all over by healthy run-ins with familiar noir and thriller additives.
The film’s opening jabs — beginning-at-the-ending voiceover, quick elliptical edit work, a series of punctuating title cards introducing the trio of love stories we’re about to witness — portend the kind of chillier form-conscious European take on Tarantino genre-revisionism we’ve come to expect from the likes of Tom Tykwer or Nicolas Winding Refn. Just Another Love Story, which embraces the classicist underpinnings continental filmmakers often bring to bear in these situations (see: baroque camera angles, painterly compositions, classical music sprinkled liberally, an air of the downbeat), is generally competent enough to pass muster, and even though Bornedal doesn’t reach the lurid heights of his American brethren, this isn’t the soppy weak-kneed existentialism of Dominic Moll either.
Click here to read the rest of Jeff Reichert’s review of Just Another Love Story.