What's the difference between a film and a movie? Or is there one? Well, some works are definitely both...Hitchcock, Sirk...but, what's my point? Oh, yeah...this is a MOVIE. Like, well maybe I've seen too much Ozu or something, but I think ONE glance from Patrick towards Cecile ON HIS WEDDING DAY would've really made the point - would've made the point a lot better than it was made. From that moment on, I was in danger of checking out. If I ever see this film again, I promise to count how many times he checks HER out in that one poor sequence. It's at least 20 times - ridiculous.I don't like having my cinephilia insulted in this way. And the Kitsch of it is, from that moment on, we are launched into some kind of weird Freudian/Lacanian scenario where The Return of the Repressed meets The Primal Scene. Every time we see Tania's taut buttocks in that clingy bathing suit that covers her va-va-voom body, every time we are thrown back into that most Portnoy-ish of Selfhating Wet Dreams, where the Blond Shiksa is a Full-Blooded Jewess, we both can't wait for Mommy to die so that we can be together with the Babe, and we hate ourselves for feeling like this. Guilt - yummy! It takes away the feeling of prurience and lays "high seriousness" on top of it - one of the classic Kitsch layer cakes. So why the Seven rating? Because if you leave out the fact that Miller really doesn't trust his viewers to think for themselves, there is something powerful in this film, the way it links Frenchness and Holocaust Denial, the way it shows how Jewishness is such a complex construction which conflates Race, Religion and Culture. But careful which films you quote if you're not on their level: Grand Illusion is name-checked, bits of Night and Fog are shown, and isn't the Bal Musette after the Klezmer Wedding (a really nice musical transition, by the way) shot at the same hall as the the famous Lesbian Dance in The Conformist? It sure looks like it. Pardon My French, but Vive La Difference!
