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…
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 –…
This led to my girlfriend and I getting in a surprisingly heated argument about whether Paul and Jeanne's relationship is a consensual one. I had said, before we watched the movie, that it was sexy, and she was pretty disturbed that what I found sexy, she found rape-y. It was a pretty far-reaching argument that was largely about whether an absence of a "no" ever means "yes," whether a sex act that leaves one party in tears can ever be considered consensual, whether a character's likability is even relevant in talking about a movie, and if so, where one draws the line (on this last point, I kind of harped on her continued, inexplicable affection for Walter White). It probably…
Last Tango in Paris is wonderfully shot and has an incredible performance from Marlon Brando, but I just didn't find it all that engaging. There were scenes here and there that I liked, but on the whole it just didn't hold my interest like I had hoped it would. 6.5/10
Apparently the reason hot twenty year-old don't want to have anonymous sex with me is that I'm not old enough to be their father and that I'm neither fat not bald enough.
"As was his practice in previous films, Brando refused to memorise his lines for many of the scenes. Instead he wrote his lines on cue cards and posted them around the set, leaving Bertolucci with the problem of keeping them out of the picture frame. During his long monologue over the body of his wife, for example, Brando's dramatic lifting of his eyes upward is not spontaneous dramatic acting but a search for his next cue card."
This review reportedly contains spoilers. I can handle the truth.
"Go get the butter".
Moral of the story is, people were very easily shocked by things in the 1970's. Everyone brings up the "butter" scene from this movie, but that's only because it was one of the first mainstream movies, outside of hardcore porn, that depicted anal sex on film. So I guess that merits the X-rating it got then? Well, that same year gave us "Deliverance", which included the first man-on-man rape scene ever depicted in a mainstream movie. That got an R-rating. Is this gender bias? I digress.
Last Tango in Paris is a roller-coaster, and an uneasy experience. It dances with the idea that we turn to the dark side when we grieve. Our main character fools…
Last year I saw Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist, which I thought was the best film I saw in 2014. It was absolutely fantastic. I also saw The Last Emperor, which I thought was also great. Now I am facing Last Tango in Paris, the point at which Bertolucci drops the ball from a very great height.
It’s not the sex scenes. It’s not that I have anything against seeing Marlon Brando pretend to get two fingers shoved up his anus whilst talking about pig-fucking. (I do have something against one sex scene, but we’ll get there later. It’s not because it features sex.) It’s 2015; if Last Tango in Paris retains any shock value, it’s only going to be for…
It's bold and formidable film-making that I respect. Okay there's the sexual intimacy. But it must be incredibly hard to capture the sheer sadness or loss or malaise depicted here in a way that doesn't just make the viewer somehow repulsed. I think the film manages it. It's also a dense exhausting film because no scene, line of dialogue or gesture in it exists at purely face value - I'm just not sure I ultimately have the energy to try to unpick it. In a rather humourless, visually muted atmosphere it's hard work!
You'll need some butter.
This has to be one of Brando's most demanding roles. Paul is a complicated beast as well as a one man butter promotions company.
Every film that has ever been nominated for an Academy Award in any category. Enjoy!