Léonard (Vincent Macaigne) is a writer who is amassing a small but dedicated group of supporters due to his unconventional “fictional autobiographies”, which chronicle the life and times of a man also named Léonard who just so happens to be a writer himself. His latest book, Final Point, is one that is stirring quite a bit of controversy, even prior to its publication, especially when his girlfriend, Valerie (Nora Hamzawi) starts to wonder who this mysterious mistress at the core of the novel is, and if the character’s infidelity the product of Léonard’s imaginations, or rooted in truth. Moreover, his longtime friend and frequent publisher, Alain (Guillaume Canet) wants to spare the feelings of Léonard and to preserve their friendship, but cannot ever admit that his latest book is just not up to standard, and lets him down gently, in the hopes that it will help him improve his future output. Alain himself is undergoing a crisis of his own – he was previously a very successful figure in the publishing industry, but due to the decline in book sales, and the rise of electronic communication, no one seems to be interested in buying literature anymore. Meanwhile, his wife Selena (Juliette Binoche) is a classically-trained actress who has been stuck on a mediocre procedural show where she plays “an expert in crisis situations” (really just a shorthand to say she is playing a very skilled cop), which may bring her more fame than she was used to through her stage work, but doesn’t fulfill her. Even more complicated is that beneath their professional careers, there is something deeper going on – Léonard and Selena have been engaged in a passionate affair, unbeknownst to their partners, who secretly have deviated in their own way: Alain has developed a relationship with his youthful assistant, and there are implications that Valerie is a lot closer to the politician she represents. Naturally, hilarity ensues as these characters try and navigate the awkwardness of modern love and life, and find their way in a world that is starting to become quite unfamiliar to them.

Olivier Assayas takes on a very different kind of subject with Non-Fiction (French: Doubles vies), which is his first foray into the realm of comedy. He delivers something that is far from outrageous, but rather more sentimental and gently provocative, a film that looks at a multitude of themes through the meticulous eye of a director who has always been primarily concerned with representing the human condition in its most raw and unfiltered state. Non-Fiction is a film about literature more than anything else, and the boundaries between fact and fiction, a journey into the lives of four individuals with their own varying careers, as well as the different secrets that they harbour, proving that both versions of the title (with the direct translation for the name of this film being Double Lives) indicate the blurring of reality that pervades the film. It isn’t Assayas at his most assured or brilliant – he is clearly experimenting with a new form of storytelling, and his insecurity at directing a comedy is shown consistently throughout, with the film often defaulting into a melancholic drama in the same narrative locations that a more confident director would infuse some comedy. Yet, despite the fact that it often meanders a bit too much without getting to a coherent point, it is a refreshingly lightweight effort from a director whose recent films have been far more serious, and when we strip away some of the more unfortunate inconsistencies and flaws, Non-Fiction is a breezy and entertaining literary romp that never takes itself too seriously, and finds the delicate balance between irreverent comedy and sentimental drama in a very special way.

Assayas has never avoided making the governing themes of his films very clear – and in Non-Fiction, he demonstrates how this is a film primarily about the idea of double lives. An intimate character study more than anything else, it looks at a quartet of individuals and their intertwining lives – we are presented with two couples, and watch how they interact with each other, and with marginally-related characters, as they weave their own versions of reality. The film deconstructs popular notions of what it means to lead a double life – most of us would normally associate the term with that of harbouring enormous secrets and functioning solely on deception and duplicity. This film approaches the subject in a more gentle, and far more resonant way. The characters in Non-Fiction certainly are far from paragons of moral virtue, but they are also not necessarily bad people. They are simply individuals who go through life in their own unique ways – and it just so happens each one of them adopts an aspect to their daily routine that they have to keep secret, not for their sake, but for that of another. Assayas cleverly constructs such a story around an exploration of the literary process, where the plot pivots around a novel written by an author who only knows how to write about himself, confessing to his infidelity in a way that is quite open, hiding the truth in plain sight. No one suspects anything, because his honesty is concealed under the protective sheen of fiction, which dissuades anyone looking too deeply for the truth. It comments directly on the intersections between fact and fiction, showing how the boundaries between them are not always very clear – and as Léonard mentions in a pivotal moment, every novel, regardless of how constructed it may be, harbours some element of truth, and every work of fiction is an autobiography in some way. The adage of “the truth is stranger than fiction” doesn’t apply here, because the central theme here is that it is difficult to discern where the truth ends and the fiction begins.

Functioning primarily as a character study, N0n-Fiction has a small but dedicated ensemble of performers, each of which plays a distinctive role that is wonderfully explored, giving each of them moments of revelatory genius. The weakest of the ensemble is Guillaume Canet, who takes on the role of Alain, a man who is struggling to find his way in a changing industry. It isn’t that Canet is bad, but rather his character is not nearly as interesting as the performance he wants to be giving. Yet, we need to wonder if this was actually intentional, because, despite his somewhat dull personality, the character seems to operate as the audience surrogate, navigating the perilous world of contemporary change without trying to make it appear particularly exciting – it is a very subdued performance, one that doesn’t require too much from the actor (and some of the choices for the character were questionable, to say the least – of the four people at the core of the film, he was certainly the . Canet is good, and while he may be overshadowed by some of the other performers, he does manage to hold his own, and in constructing a character that feels authentic to the point where he reaches some form of banality is actually quite an effective choice if it was purposeful. Acting across from Canet is Juliette Binoche, one of the greatest French actresses of her generation, who gives one of her most effortlessly fun performances here. Playing an actress who is trying to hold onto her moment of glory, despite nearing the end of her very short prime, the actress could not be any further from the character she is playing (there is a wonderful moment towards the end of the film, when Binoche herself, not the character she is playing, is the subject of a hilarious meta exchange). Binoche is always good, and while Non-Fiction doesn’t allow her to reach the brilliant heights we know she can, it does give her the opportunity to have fun and play a character that has a lot of depth, but without the heavier material that she is more known for.

Yet, Non-Fiction is a film that surpasses expectations, as we can see in the fact that it isn’t the more traditional leading performers that make the most impact, but the two less-familiar ones. Vincent Macaigne is the core of the film, with Non-Fiction being mostly centred around him – while he may not be the primary character, the novel he has written serves to be the common thread with which the film is woven. It is a masterclass in comedic performance, with his luckless character having to go through so much just because of his choice of artistic expression – he is perhaps the only inherently likeable character in the whole film, simply because he is the only one who doesn’t strive for anything more than what he has already received – he does not want to be a world-famous author, and he only engages in publicity events for the sake of the publishers who have been gracious enough to produce his subpar book. Non-Fiction is odd in how it characterizes Léonard, mainly because he is the one person we’d expect to find deplorable, yet he’s the one we empathize the most with, and Macaigne admirably rolls with the punches, taking everything his character has to endure in jest. Nora Hamzawi is a scene-stealer and has perhaps the most interesting character, but sadly also the one who is explored the least – as a feisty and cutthroat manager for a local politician, her ruthlessness extends into her personal life, with her no-nonsense attitude often impacting those closest to her. Hamzawi’s past as a comedian is very clear here, but it is far from an impingment, and functions as a merit, giving her performance the acidity it needs (some of the moments involving her are the funniest in the whole film), as well as imbuing her moments of quiet vulnerability with a certain resonance, as we can see they come from a place of true empathy. Hamzawi is astounding in the film and considering this was one of her first prestige roles, one can only hope it serves as a springboard for the future of her career.

Non-Fiction is ultimately the quintessential European comedy – it is an intelligent, brilliantly written film about a range of existentialist issues, told with insight and precision into the minds of a range of fascinating characters that defy any archetype. It may sometimes be slightly perplexing – it is written with the audacity of a contemporary stage play, with so much being packaged into any single scene, it can become somewhat difficult to keep up (in this regard, it does seem like Assayas was trying to make a French equivalent to the mumblecore sub-genre in American independent film), but when given the choice between having a laborious and dull experience, or one that is executed with a dizzying frenzy of ideas that may bewilder the viewer, but at least keeps us interested, the decision is extremely easy. There is a lot going on throughout Non-Fiction, and it makes for truly compelling viewing – through focusing on the boundaries between fact and fiction, and the tendency for everyone to construct stories about themselves to the point where they often inadvertently adopt something resembling a secret life, the film manages to say quite a bit about our society. Non-Fiction is a riveting social drama concealed beneath the guise of a quirky and endearing comedy, which is a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when the intention is to extract the best qualities from two somewhat irreconcilable genres. Fresh, fascinating and meaningful, it is a small film that compensates for its flaws with a genial charm and a great deal of exuberant humour that makes it a delightful exploration of the (double) lives of a set of creative individuals, and there various existential quandaries that may appear somewhat superficial, but are no less resonant, mainly because they appear so genuine, clearly rooted in some form of reality. Assayas’ first foray into comedic territory is definitely not without its imperfections, but it doesn’t matter when his work still remains as warm, endearing and interesting as ever, with his ability to engage with the audience through the most simple representations of life and its idiosyncracies proving him to be one of the most consistently great social filmmakers of his generation.