Review of Last Tango in Paris (1972) by Shane R — 09 Jul 2008

At times "Last Tango in Paris" is a slog to decipher, not necessarily enjoyable, never boring, but a conundrum of abstruse character motive. Information to certain actions are given after the fact, rendering prior scenes in an alternate context.

Marlan Brando explores the dark recesses of the human soul as only Brando can do in a film about sex without love and love without passion, the proverbial substitute in times of mourning. Bernardo Bertolucci deals with the space within human emotion, the empty dead ones.

I can't say I fancy his examinations over say a Michealangelo Antonioni. It's not that his style isn't as assured, its just different; less subdued, wilder, more susceptible to internal deviations within its story.