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Why, why, why...


Words cannot describe the depravity and horrendous images which the viewer has been subjected to in this movie.


The plot is irrelevant. During an all-too graphic and intimate moment between a husband and wife, their child dies in an accident. That is the first four minutes of the movie. The rest of the monstrosity has the couple dealing with their loss in a fashion that involves mindless philosophical banter and bodily mutilation beyond what needs to be seen. That Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg would agree to inflict their bodies to create such images is reprehensible. I have seen and enjoyed an occasional depiction of "shock art," but this ranks up there with Gasper Noé's Irréversible of worthlessness.


Not even worth it to see Willem Dafoe's butt (or his appendage). Gainsbourg's body is unattractively muscular.


Disgusting from beginning to end.

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Not with those muscles. Do guys seriously want to see six-pack abs on a woman?


And anyway, why should 'what guys want' be the standard by which to judge a woman's body?


(the film is embarrassingly shit, by the way)

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  • 7 months later...

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