Last Tango in Paris
Incredibly difficult to watch, both as a story and metatextually.
Taken at face value, everything is so raw and so natural. The performances are layered with such realism and sorrow. Plus the way <PERSON> and company shoot Paris is extraordinary, showing the suburbs and side-streets of the city with an identity all their own. The few landmarks used, such as that bridge from Inception, are made to stick out.
The bleakness of the scenario goes from beginning to end, but the film builds to a conclusion you know will provide only sadness. Thankfully you have the aging <PERSON> to play a man lost in his youth, put opposite the wise-beyond-her-years <PERSON>.
But with knowledge of how the film is made and the toll it took on <PERSON> in particular, The infamous rape scene has been the subject of scrutiny for years, and for good reason. 306
Even though it is supposedly simulated, I've never felt so disturbed by a rape sequence, nor felt the pain so much of the subject. Even in the context of the film the act plays out with a marked lack of consent.
But this isn't the only moment that disturbs and upsets, with so much of <PERSON>'s performance feeling manipulated and extorted. She's a stunning force opposite <PERSON>, the babe in the woods to his big bad wolf. Yet you cannot deny the talent of her actual acting, building a world-weary teenager who nevertheless feels as emotionally old as <PERSON> looks. We're not watching a <PERSON> and <PERSON> dynamic between the characters, but a bond between two adults who are afraid of growing beyond the roles they've made for themselves.
But what happens, say, when those roles are forced in place, are dictated, are abused?
In a film like Last Tango in Paris, where does performance end and trauma begin? This is what leaves you on the verge. 306