Contrary impressions when evaluating this film of the frequently interesting, and often bizarre Zulawski.
One doesn't know whether to start by praising the magnificent performances and cinematographic expertise of the director (who seem to have a Fellini-worthy ability to accurately capture his intentions) or by deploring the melodramatic excesses of a morbid and tear-jerking three-way love story, where characters do not stop crying or giving each other intense painful glances, always underlined, as if the totally over the top style of the film were not enough, by the same bars of a characteristic strings Delerue melody (which is used insistently by the director to make it clear to the viewer that there is a lot of pain there, and that it is an important moment, in case he doesn't get to notice it)
We don't know whether to give more weight in our appreciation to the meritorious daring of the director or to his annoying narcissism that translates into a host of bizarre whims, reminding us at every moment that this is the most rarefied auteur cinema.
There is much to praise, and despite the hyper-emotionality that prevails in the film, or precisely because of it, some performances are of the highest order, especially Romy and Dutronc. Others are simply laughable. There are some very good scenes, in its overwhelming style, but most have at least a touch of shameless exhibitionism. The direction is brimming with imagination but its ideas are often pretentious and utterly lacking in subtlety.
The best is Romy Schneider, more beautiful than ever and in a display of authentic expressiveness, the actress works miracles, but again the director ends up making us feel that everything has a lot to do with repetitive, obscene and immodest emotional exhibitionism.
One doesn't know whether to start by praising the magnificent performances and cinematographic expertise of the director (who seem to have a Fellini-worthy ability to accurately capture his intentions) or by deploring the melodramatic excesses of a morbid and tear-jerking three-way love story, where characters do not stop crying or giving each other intense painful glances, always underlined, as if the totally over the top style of the film were not enough, by the same bars of a characteristic strings Delerue melody (which is used insistently by the director to make it clear to the viewer that there is a lot of pain there, and that it is an important moment, in case he doesn't get to notice it)
We don't know whether to give more weight in our appreciation to the meritorious daring of the director or to his annoying narcissism that translates into a host of bizarre whims, reminding us at every moment that this is the most rarefied auteur cinema.
There is much to praise, and despite the hyper-emotionality that prevails in the film, or precisely because of it, some performances are of the highest order, especially Romy and Dutronc. Others are simply laughable. There are some very good scenes, in its overwhelming style, but most have at least a touch of shameless exhibitionism. The direction is brimming with imagination but its ideas are often pretentious and utterly lacking in subtlety.
The best is Romy Schneider, more beautiful than ever and in a display of authentic expressiveness, the actress works miracles, but again the director ends up making us feel that everything has a lot to do with repetitive, obscene and immodest emotional exhibitionism.