Mademoiselle

This movie was significantly more sexually advanced than I am, but I still hold my breath when walking past Victoria’s Secret at the mall so…

A man gets involved with the wrong type of woman. Or: about sexual repression and the drives unbound as expressions of pathologies both individual and collective. This film may have been a victim of the eternally superficial accusation of pretentiousness, which might itself be taken as evidence of critics being uncomfortable with the depiction of female sexuality, vindicating its message. The stark photography, fixed camera, lack of music and singleminded focus add up to quite a sexy nightmare.

This is a dark-drama-cum-psychological-thriller, centered on a character (Moreau) occupying a mysterious spot between female sociopathy and cracking sexual repression (perhaps akin to Polanski's "Repulsion"). Touches of Freudian symbolism and Richardson's careful pacing and strongly evocative cinematography, conspire with the best script I've seen from Genet/Duras to create a truly bewitching film; quite a lot of animal cruelty notwithstanding.

Women love snakes and belt buckles.

Complex and fascinating threesome interaction between father, son and teacher (mother), how sex could be like between a woman who's not afraid of her sluttishness and a man who's not afraid of his virility, and the tragic destiny of a freely virile man in a society hating virility because of its general repression.

Mademoiselle just never grabbed me. It could very well be I overlooked it's charms entirely.

An interesting film because so little is given away about motives and back story for Mademoiselle. The black and white cinematography adds atmosphere and the whole was strangely reminiscent of Micheal Haneke’s White Ribbon.

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