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As you may or may not know, here in the UK we’re not allowed toshow scenes of “hardcore” pornography, on the grounds thatthey’re captivating and corrupting. For the first time in history, the censors have let a film absorb such scenes, and that film is Romance.
The point is, of course, that the scenes aren’t titillating- in fact, they are quite horrifying in places. The whole film is a crawl into the dusky side of female sexuality, and (speaking as a heterosexual male) it can become highly disturbing.
The spot, briefly: our heroine (? ) is told that her boyfriend loves her but doesn’t want to have sex with her. In emotional turmoil, she has a series of sexual encounters, increasingly degrading and bizarre, as she tries to pick up a link between her twin needs for sexual satisfaction and emotional fulfilment.
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Excellent cinematography and a bleak script; by far the best film I saw last year, and probably the best I’ll witness again this year.
The words of Emmanuelle Beart (referring to her nude scenes in La Belle Noiseuse) came relieve to me as I watched Romance: “I wasn’t baring my ass, I was baring my soul.”
So it is for Romance, a drama that has been called everything from “sexiest movie ever made” to “pornography”. And on a strictly technical viewpoint, the terms apply — with graphic depictions of fellatio, copulation, childbirth and all manners of sexual behaviour both dilapidated and alternative, Romance walks the fragile line between art and exploitation.
What makes this film a ample chronicle instead of a series of sex scenes is its emotional near. Director Catherine Breillat, who explored the subject of teenage sexuality in 36 Fillette with frankness and earnesty, applies the same advance to the sexual frustrations depicted in Romance. The graphic nudity, then, becomes not exploitation but attention to detail, and Breillat’s choice of covering scenes with a series of sequence shots (the average running time of singular shots in this film is in minutes, not seconds) gives this film a painfully immediate, real-time feel. The exhaust of long takes without cuts could not have been easy given the graphic sexual acts the actors have to simulate in the film. And the sequence shots are highly appropriate to the performances, capturing the actors’ every beat. Caroline Ducey gives a valorous performance as Marie, the frustrated teacher who tries to rediscover sex within a stifling relationship. The pressure of the graphic scenes and the character’s staggering vulnerability give her performance a charge, and it is to Ducey’s credit that her character’s heart says remarkable more than her oft-displayed body. By the destroy of the film the ironic, seemingly exploitative slug line comes true: “Savor is desolate, romance is temporary, sex is forever”. The final sequence of the film actually proves this to be a staunch statement in a sly, but also emotive plot.
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This film could never have been made on American soil — pointing to the cultural inequity between the Gallic and American film scenes. From this dissimilarity also comes explanation of why Romance, despite its sincerity and the depth of the characters, was received with such outrage here. In France, nudity has been naturalized — it is no longer a shock to peep frontal nudity and frank depictions of sex. In America, on the other hand, onscreen nudity is considered a special occasion, the “last resort”. It is quite frankly unimaginable to me that an American actress would have consented to doing what Ducey does here — the eternal query being “What can we pick up away with? ” Well, sometimes you can’t contemplate in terms of what you can “derive away with”. Breillat and Ducey, by opting to demonstrate the character as they must for her to arrive alive, originate the put a question to moot. Imagine Romance as an airbrushed Hollywood product, with artfully executed Nicolas Roeg-style montages and dissolves for the sex scenes, and the epic will drop apart. Really, which is more exploitative: The painfully emotional scene in which Marie tries to come by her boyfriend to desire her, or that bathtub scene in The English Patient, where a gash was specifically made so that the audience can seek a naked Kristin Scott-Thomas rise from the tub from the front?
All sociological comments, aside, Romance is a searing drama on relationships and sexuality, unwavering in its integrity, and bewitching in its advance both to the audience and to the actors. Its greatest strength lies not in whether it’s “sexy” or not — but in its cessation, intimate examination of matters of the heart.








