All the films from all the editions, including those subsequently removed, presently totalling 1177. 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…
For all the controversy apparently surrounding the content in Bertolucci's film, it's surprisingly tame by today's standards. Though the shock of the illicit rendezvous between the two leads may have been replaced by lingering questions regarding whether Paul rapes Jeanne in one or two scenes. Another surprise to me was how un-erotic the film actually was. To me it had always been described as dripping with lust and permeating with pleasure (Pauline Kael's famous review regarding the atmosphere at the premiere screening comes to mind) but to me at least it felt very cold. I could feel the passion emanating from Brando's Paul but not passion of lust but something far rawer and angrier. The scene where he's at his…
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 –…
The movie equivalent to a teeth dropped in a glass of Coke.
It deteriorates throughout its runtime from the moment you thought it would be an incredible character study to the point when you start to unintentionally laugh at its absurdity, and the following piece of "existential" pseudopsychological dialogue is so disconnected to the events on screen it may as well be a quote from a newspaper, the catechesis or the back of a cereal box and no one would know the difference. Like the things Paul makes the girl repeat during the butter scene, wtf? It's not even subtext rather plain non sequiturs.
If it wasn't for Marlon and the poor girl's performance (both having stated on record how they felt raped after working on the film) this would be a complete catastrophe.
Well, unfortunately it still is:
Paul - "Our children... Our children... will remember."
Bravo, so deep!
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
In his 1972 film, Last Tango in Paris, Bernardo Bertolucci explores a variety of different realities within one love story of epic proportions. In the film, Paul has lost his wife to suicide and finds himself in a relatively anonymous, secluded affair with one Jeanne, who is seemingly seeking refuge from an upcoming engagement with a filmmaker named Thomas. Through these three characters and the locations they interact in, Bertolucci explores multiple love-based realities that relate directly to their levels of interaction within and beyond the public and filmic eye.
The apartment that Jeanne and Paul have their affair in serves as the most straightforward and prevalent analysis on love beyond the public eye. Paul sets up ground rules for…
"Go get the butter."
Όσες σκηνές κι αν κοπούν, όσα χρόνια κι αν περάσουν, παραμένει το ενδοσκοπικό, προκλητικό, σπαρακτικό γράμμα του Bertolucci προς την Πόλη του Φωτός των '70s, κι ένας από τους 2-3 καλύτερους Brando που γνώρισε η μεγάλη οθόνη.
Cuantas mas películas de Bertolucci veo, mas me gusta. Seguramente un director menos hábil hubiese sido incapaz de contar esta historia.
so obviously one of bertolucci's creepy paedophilic fantasies....
I really hate the French Wave !
Complete list. :-(