Review of Last Tango in Paris (1972) by Spencer S — 03 Jun 2012

So evocative in its day, this film does not hold up under the scrutiny of thirty years. At the time it was unsettling, possibly harsh, to see an erotic film that bordered on sado-masochistic, maybe even crossing that fine line, because it was a subject never covered before.

Still, the scenes are practically tame (except for one) compared to today's sanctimonious art house dribble. There were even more explosive films of refuse floating around at that time, but because of Marlon Brando's pull as a classically famous actor, this got special attention.

There were certainly redeeming qualities to this treasure trove of erotic lore, including the over the top direction. Bertolucci seemed to have his own flair, having written and directed this film, but it's the stylization that keeps interest throughout the dragging plot.

His use of music, of close, uncomfortable shots, and long, uninterrupted shots, was strangely tight, like a hand at your throat. The reason it doesn't work as an erotic drama is because of the budding relationship between our two leads.

Brando plays a widowed expatriate American who meets a nameless woman (Schneider) in an apartment that is being showed to rent, and out of nowhere they start a sexual relationship. Neither of them seem to care or know why this is happening, and the ensuing relationship is cold and unbelievable.

The characters make sense as a whole, especially Brando's with the climactic ending. Still, they aren't interesting and they don't hold interest either. Though Jeanne (Schneider) has a side story with her fiance and Paul (Brando) has to deal with an unruly ex-mother-in-law, they are readily defined as automatons that meet every so often and have miscellaneous sex.

Beside that they are shown as kooky, rambunctious people without a grasp of language or of their baser emotions. Brando crows half the time, and Schneider blithers adolescent angst throughout, baring her breasts and running through the streets of Paris to escape yet another suitor.

The ending, though blunt and as lifeless as everything else, was the only surprise of the film. Brando may have been impressive as always, but his character was annoying, petulant, and dull. It was far too long, and paced horrifically, so overall I found this to be pretentious and irritatingly self-righteous as well.

It's good to sate your curiosity on Brando's later work, but otherwise it's a heavyhanded attempt at drama.