French cinema used to have a reputation in the socially backward UK for being essentially about two people in a room having sex. In reality it was far more likely to be about two people in a room talking about having sex, but that didn't stop British distributors marketing the work of our more enlightened cousins as inherently dirty.
Well, that was then. Now, the marketing geniuses behind Irreversible, Romance and Baise Moi have decided it would be great if French cinema really was about two people in a room having sex.
This is all very perplexing
Baise Moi is essentially the younger, more disturbed suck and f*ck sister to Ridley Scott's Thelma and Louise. "This is Art you know" you seem to hear the director saying. Well, possibly. It's certainly an achievement; getting general release permission for a hardcore film past the most scissor-happy censors in Europe. But art? Erm, no.
All of that said, the film could have been worse. The acting is actually rather good, considering the fact that although having a huge body of films behind them the stars are more usually credited as performers than actors. The rape scene at the beginning is one of the most harrowing (and I suspect realistic) on film. There is nothing remotely romantic or titillating about it. The message about how a bleak, mean life invokes nihilism is not new but it is well made, and at least the film tries to have a message.
Perhaps, if there is a virtue to the graphic sex, it is that it stops the audience having to engage their imagination. May be the sheer mindlessness and pointlessness is the point. But far too much of the film ends up as mere exhibition, and therefore falls firmly between the stools of art and pornography, probably pleasing neither camp.
Well, that was then. Now, the marketing geniuses behind Irreversible, Romance and Baise Moi have decided it would be great if French cinema really was about two people in a room having sex.
This is all very perplexing
Baise Moi is essentially the younger, more disturbed suck and f*ck sister to Ridley Scott's Thelma and Louise. "This is Art you know" you seem to hear the director saying. Well, possibly. It's certainly an achievement; getting general release permission for a hardcore film past the most scissor-happy censors in Europe. But art? Erm, no.
All of that said, the film could have been worse. The acting is actually rather good, considering the fact that although having a huge body of films behind them the stars are more usually credited as performers than actors. The rape scene at the beginning is one of the most harrowing (and I suspect realistic) on film. There is nothing remotely romantic or titillating about it. The message about how a bleak, mean life invokes nihilism is not new but it is well made, and at least the film tries to have a message.
Perhaps, if there is a virtue to the graphic sex, it is that it stops the audience having to engage their imagination. May be the sheer mindlessness and pointlessness is the point. But far too much of the film ends up as mere exhibition, and therefore falls firmly between the stools of art and pornography, probably pleasing neither camp.