Review #923: 'Last Tango in Paris' (1972)

Now immortalised as one of cinema's all-time greatest lines, American expatriate Paul's demand for his one-off lover Jeanne to "go, get the butter," has since defined Last Tango in Paris. It's legacy is not it's quality, but in it's gratuitous sex scenes, which are shocking even by today's standards and were the cause of a huge scandal in its day. The scene in which Marlon Brando's character has rough anal sex with the young, wide-eyed Maria Schneider is all that seems to be discussed about the film, even by people who have yet to see it. It's reputation overshadows what is an occasionally tender, thought-provoking, and admittedly ridiculous film, that strives to depict a different kind of love story, and one that manifests itself through violence, animalistic desire, and sheer loneliness.

Paul and Jeanne are two wandering souls in Paris. Paul runs a flea-pit hotel following the suicide of his wife, who we come to learn was sleeping with another man, seemingly with Paul's approval. Jeanne is on the cusp of marrying an aspiring film director in the Jean-Luc Godard mould, Tom (Jeanne-Piere Leaud), who arrives in Paris to shoot an avant garde piece called Portrait of a Woman. They encounter each other by chance when they both view an apartment up for rent. Their brief meeting results in sex, and afterwards Paul insists that it become a regular meeting place, where the two meet to forget about the world outside and exist solely for each other's pleasure. They are not to even tell each other their name, let alone anything about their family, history or their life in the real world.

Originally intended by director Bernardo Bertolucci to focus on the sexual relationship between two males, Last Tango in Paris is a not a film simply about a dirty old man and his sexually curious mistress, but raises questions about morality, love and death. Paul and Jeanne are two lost souls channelling their worldly problems into sexual pleasure (or perhaps vice versa), but they find it difficult to ignore their emotions as the two begin to slowly learn more about each other. The Brando of 1972 still retained some of his handsomeness (rather than the shadow of his former self he became), and here demands your attention with every improvised line or burst of energy. It's also extremely brooding, intensified by Brando and only intermittently cheered up by the presence of Leaud, and it is long. It's just shy of being a great film, but will no doubt inspire extreme reactions from both ends of the spectrum by anyone who happens to view it.


Directed by: Bernardo Bertolucci
Starring: Marlon Brando, Maria Schneider, Jean-Pierre Léaud, Maria Michi
Country: France/Italy

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie

Review #625: 'Before the Revolution' (1964)

After his début, The Grim Reaper (1962), the then 22-year old Bernardo Bertolucci made this, Before the Revolution, an often astonishing homage to the ongoing French New Wave movement and a work of almost unbelievable maturity given his age. Set very much after the revolution, presumably referring to the Italian unification, this is undoubtedly a bleak film, looking back on Italy's history with blind, fond nostalgia, and staring into the abyss of their future. Despite the occasional Marxist monologue, the film is in no ways political, and instead focuses on very human drama, with characters seemingly locked into their social roles and resigned to their fate.

The handsome and idealistic Fabrizio (Francesco Barilli) is destined to marry his childhood sweetheart Clelia (Cristina Pariset), a beautiful woman teetering on aristocracy. After his friend Agostino (Allen Midgette) drowns in a possible suicide, he falls headlong into a potentially dangerous love affair with his aunt Gina (Adriana Asti). Gina is unpredictable, highly emotional and possibly borderline mentally ill, but she is also attractive, seductive and wilful, challenging for the sullen Fabrizio. The death of Agostino clearly damages the passionate Fabrizio, whose studies of Marxism with his teacher and friend Cesare (Morando Morandini) had made him outspoken, but now finds himself blindly wandering into the bourgeoisie.

The film doesn't really have a plot as such, but is instead a collection of scenes and interplays that channel Bertolucci's somewhat pessimistic views of Italy in the 1960's. The characters seem locked in the past, a past that they weren't alive for, and as Fabrizio states, full of nostalgia for the present, as if every passing moment is somehow being snatched away from them. It's best summarised in what is undoubtedly the stand-out scene in the movie, as they visit Puck (Cecrope Barilli), a man crippled with so much debt that he is soon to lose his beloved land. While the camera stays calm and graceful throughout the film, Puck laments as the camera sweeps into their air over rivers and forests, Ennio Morricone's astounding score blaring over the visuals. It's a beautiful moment, full of sad longing that reminded me of Sam the Lion's moving monologue in The Last Picture Show (1971) - one of favourite moments in cinema.

Although this is clearly a wink to Godard and the French New Wave, Bertolucci takes a much more controlled approach to the direction. The camera often glides slowly from side to side, switching character focus as they talk, filmed in crisp black-and-white. It was this approach that caused Godard to voice his displeasure at Bertolucci after viewing his masterpiece The Conformist (1970), claiming it to be too contrived. But cinema can be anything and everything you want it to be, and this makes for beautiful cinema, anchored by a powerful performance by Asti, who makes any possible taboo regarding her incestuous relationship with her nephew become redundant. This is much more than a simple love story, this is a film about a country, it's past and present.


Directed by: Bernardo Bertolucci
Starring: Adriana Asti, Francesco Barilli, Morando Morandini
Country: Italy

Rating: ****

Tom Gillespie