In Twice Upon a Yesterday, the flip side of love is regret, that incessant pining for what might have been. Victor Bukowski (Douglas Henshall), a self-absorbed, struggling actor in London, can’t accept that his former girlfriend, Sylvia (Lena Headey), is marrying another man. Dave (Mark Strong), a compassionate and socially conscious environmentalist, is in many ways a better match for Sylvia, a psychologist, but all Victor can do is dream an impossible dream: to relive the pivotal moment when he lost her.
Ironically, Victor doesn’t see the none-too-discreet affair he was conducting with an actress as the problem. His mistake, he reckons, was telling Sylvia the truth. She had grown suspicious, but was still willing to hear his well-rehearsed excuses. But, envisioning a bright future with this new woman, Victor decides to come clean.
Eight months later, he’s a wreck. The new relationship has fizzled fast and he’s spending his time in pubs seeking out the sympathetic ear of female bartenders. On one particularly rainy night, he’s stumbling home drunk and falls into a trash container. In this state, he doesn’t quite know what to make of the sanitation workers (Eusebio Lázaro and Gustavo Salmerón) who find him. An odd pair reminiscent of Cervantes’ Don Quixote and Sancho Panza, they lead him to an oddly mystical site: the massive trash dump where they’ve salvaged the most precious objects people have thrown away.
They magically grant Victor the ability to go back in time and alter his fate. Euphoric over his second chance, he’s baffled when his supposedly happy ending is fraught with unexpected complications, including the appearance of Dave – who Sylvia is still strongly attracted to – and his own quixotic involvement with Louise (Penélope Cruz).
Like Cruz’s character, director Maria Ripoll and screenwriter Rafa Russo are Spaniards working in England, and they bring a playful, dreamlike quality to the film while seriously ruminating on the idea that individuals can determine – but not fully control – their futures.
Twice Upon a Yesterday ends enticingly by folding back on itself, creating a kind of romantic Möbius strip where love is the state of eternal possibility.
Serena Donadoni writes about film for Metro Times. E-mail her at email@example.com.
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