"She was a flower with psychic antennae and a tinsel heart."
As poetic as that is, words fail to describe this character or the charming actor who plays her, Béatrice Dalle. The chemistry she has with Jean-Hugues Anglade is electric and clear from the beginning, with the opening scene of them having sex for a full two minutes. The pair have a languid eroticism about them that is the best part about the film, especially given that it came out in 1986, though it's overdone to say the least.
These two are in a loving but tumultuous relationship, one that is stressed by her anger management issues and occasional bursts of destructive behavior. I saw the director's cut which at 185 minutes was too long, because most of the action in the middle didn't seem to be driving the plot forward all that well. Unfortunately, I think the preponderance of nudity and sex were in there to cover for a mediocre story. On the other hand, the cinematography is as beautiful as the cast, and the film did just enough to hold my interest, well, until the final half hour or so, when it faltered rather badly.
Sometimes the comedy works, including the humorous rejection letters he gets as an aspiring writer. "I return this nauseating flower you call a novel ... leave that thing where it belongs, in the quagmire of your brain.," reads one. At other times it's just odd, e.g. The slapstick comedy with the sofa bed in the nude (full frontal, male and female), or the shopkeeper's wife who tries to seduce him, jamming his face into her crouch ("Eat my pussy! Eat it!").
In the end, however, the film decides to go dark, something it didn't lay enough groundwork for earlier, the anger problems notwithstanding. By the time she's suffering serious mental health issues and he's committing crimes, it's tough to truly care. The actions that happen from there seem more geared to shock, just like the nudity, than to really explore these characters and create a sensical story around them. It's a shame, as it had so much potential.
As poetic as that is, words fail to describe this character or the charming actor who plays her, Béatrice Dalle. The chemistry she has with Jean-Hugues Anglade is electric and clear from the beginning, with the opening scene of them having sex for a full two minutes. The pair have a languid eroticism about them that is the best part about the film, especially given that it came out in 1986, though it's overdone to say the least.
These two are in a loving but tumultuous relationship, one that is stressed by her anger management issues and occasional bursts of destructive behavior. I saw the director's cut which at 185 minutes was too long, because most of the action in the middle didn't seem to be driving the plot forward all that well. Unfortunately, I think the preponderance of nudity and sex were in there to cover for a mediocre story. On the other hand, the cinematography is as beautiful as the cast, and the film did just enough to hold my interest, well, until the final half hour or so, when it faltered rather badly.
Sometimes the comedy works, including the humorous rejection letters he gets as an aspiring writer. "I return this nauseating flower you call a novel ... leave that thing where it belongs, in the quagmire of your brain.," reads one. At other times it's just odd, e.g. The slapstick comedy with the sofa bed in the nude (full frontal, male and female), or the shopkeeper's wife who tries to seduce him, jamming his face into her crouch ("Eat my pussy! Eat it!").
In the end, however, the film decides to go dark, something it didn't lay enough groundwork for earlier, the anger problems notwithstanding. By the time she's suffering serious mental health issues and he's committing crimes, it's tough to truly care. The actions that happen from there seem more geared to shock, just like the nudity, than to really explore these characters and create a sensical story around them. It's a shame, as it had so much potential.