Review of Last Tango in Paris (1972) by Barrie B — 28 Dec 2007

Linnea and I viewed this film for the first time tonight. We rented it after viewing the Marlon Brando doc on on TCM where one of the topics was Brando's post-traumatic collapse after the film wrapped, blamed on the indignities he allegedly suffered while playing this part.

Linnea found it boring. I found it...well here's our conversation.

BARRIE: So why was Erica Jong vilified in the 1970s when she wrote of the zipless f*ck, but Bertolucci makes a film about it and critics call it the most important movie ever made?

LINNEA: [sarcastic] Aw gee, that's a stumper. I'll give you five minutes to think while I take the dogs out.

Later Nea added brutal to her boring. Can boring be also brutal? Perhaps she means brutally boring? I didn't find the action brutal so much as unpleasantly airless. And oddly unsexy. And a textbook illustration of the "male gaze". Perhaps I can simply no longer remember a time when it was news that sexuality, loneliness, despair and obsession are linked. Still, the obsession in this film is so NOT palpable, despite the attention to sex, and Maria Schneider's breasts.

But the tango scene was cool. And speaking of obsession, watching I became obsessed with Miss Maria's hair, but perhaps only because I had that exact hairstyle in 1979. Which considering how famous this film was in the 70s may explain more than one unpleasant vibe from a stranger.

I'm always happy to at least be able to say I saw another from the canon, even if I'd vote it off the list. Linnea however wishes we'd watched Dream Girls instead.