All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1167. An easy way of seeing how…
Last Tango in Paris
Bernardo Bertolucci's Landmark Film
A young Parisian woman begins a sordid affair with a middle-aged American businessman whom lays out ground rules that their clandestine relationship will be based only on sex.
Gives a whole new definition to the phrase 'to butter someone up'
Guess philosophical porn just ain't my thing.
Last Tango in Paris, the infamous psychosexual drama from Bernardo Bertolucci, upset conservatives in 1972 when it came out but is tame by today's standards.
Marlon Brando rents a small apartment and begins an anonymous affair with a much younger Parisian woman (Maria Schneider). His wife's recent suicide has led him to conclude his marriage was a sham built on falsehoods. Determined to separate sex from intimacy (or truth from illusion), Brando insists on total anonymity, which intensifies their liaison and allows them to harbour an idealised notion of one another.
Tango includes two principle sex scenes that are shocking only in terms of Brando's outward aggression toward Schneider (the camera pays much attention to her smooth legs, lolling breasts…
Graphic and uncompromising Bertolucci's masterpiece, not for the faint of heart or easily offended. Marvelous acting and direction make of this an exquisite piece of art to enjoy several times. Lust, passion, intoxicating existentialism and experimental filmmaking is today's strong dish, accompanied by a forbidden, Platonic steamy affair.
Last Tango in Paris tells the story of a 45-year-old American man (Marlon Brando) and a 20-year-old French woman (Maria Schneider) who meet by chance and become involved in a sexual relationship. He demands that they reveal nothing about themselves—not even their names. In their "real" lives away from each other, they are confronted with major life changes. He deals with his wife's death, and she becomes engaged to her young boyfriend (Jean-Pierre Léaud). The more difficult their real lives become, the more they need to be together in their secret apartment where they have no name.
The film was considered sexually explicit and vulgar when it was released in 1972. By today's standards, it contains little that will shock…
Well, bugger me......
How do I even begin to talk about this movie? The high I felt after seeing it has not subsided; I still feel as if I were standing on God’s scalp, my arms outstretched, everything a dazed blur, a colorful whirl. I have never had a more ecstatic experience watching a movie in the theater – and while I am on this note, let me express how grateful I am that there are still theaters which show masterpieces like Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Last Tango in Paris.” Because there is nothing, absolutely nothing, that can ever replace the moment when the lights go down and the screen erupts into life, and the world – with all its paradox, confusion, striving, failure –…
Brando. Bertolucci. Schneider. Storaro.
LAST TANGO IN PARIS is overwhelming. I don't know how good that makes it, but I couldn't force myself to consider watching anything else after I finished it. It hung over me too deeply.
There's an ugly sparsity to how the thing is shot. Marlon Brando sits on the floor eating a sandwich and it looks like the most interesting thing in the world. The carpet is disgusting, the walls are a mess. Furniture is decayed, falling apart all around him. This is the primary locale for the entire movie: a disgusting Parisian apartment. There's all this sex and nudity, and it feels casual and unimportant, a background tableau to the disconnected study of the movie's two main characters. A…
Actor worship, putting the audience in the shoes of Schneider - not saying we're sodomized against our will, but Brando's redoubtable persona is almost the whole movie - leaving us isolated with his fits of fury, and we must succumb. The American chauvinist turned expatriate because the Parisian life leads to artistic revelations, but he retains the elements of his upbringing that he most hates, enforces a "sex and no questions" relationship, and goes about solving his internal agony via sexual depravity, a Bertolucci kink to be sure. It's unsure of anything except love is always between strangers, getting increasingly wacky, but there's expert lighting abound. Entrancing failure.
enjoyed much more of the poetic side of it after some years
CITY OF... LOVE?
An intimate look at romantic obsession and the inability for people to connect, Last Tango In Paris seems to paint a fully realized image of star-crossed broken people attempting to form a genuine bond-- the only issue, in that intimate, fully-realized affair, is that often the conversation can swing wildly from thoughtful and philosophical to meandering small-talk that feels like it's wasting the viewer's time. Despite that, the film seems like it was created by a crew of people utterly devoted to what they were doing, and this comes across in the fantastic acting by all involved-- though obviously a tremendous shame to hear about the controversy surrounding Maria Schneider's involvement in the film.
Overall, it was…
Too slow and artsy for my taste
Bertolucci is a sick f*ck.
Pass the butter, please.
- A Trip to the Moon
- The Great Train Robbery
- The Birth of a Nation
- Les Vampires
- 12 Angry Men
- 2001: A Space Odyssey
- 25th Hour
- 3 Women
- The Racket
- 7th Heaven
- Sunrise: A Song of Two Humans
- Chang: A Drama of the Wilderness
Every film that has ever been nominated for an Academy Award in any category. Enjoy!