Sunday, October 2, 2005
Agape
After enjoying The Ninth Gate, Polanski's gothic horror movie, I tried another by the director. Bitter Moon, Polanski's two hour fifteen minute 1992 movie about the sexual encounters between two married couples while sailing from Istanbul to India. If you haven't seen this ghastly mess of a movie but plan to (don't, do not) refrain from reading on as I'll be talking plot.
Polanski tells an old story: a couple yearning to psychically unwrap in the seeming freedom from consequences provided by travel. Polanski attempts to present the story in an ironic way, making the encounters and dialog so over the top you feel the humor underneath. It didn't work, not a single syllable, not a cut nor pan nor transition. It was so bad it was unintentionally funny. I do have to say, I watched the whole movie. It wasn't boring. But then, in The Producers, Mel Brooks presents the whole audience agape, the awfulness of the show leading them to drop their jaws in unison — they too were attentive — in disbelief.
With movies this bad you begin to think of things only indirectly related to the movie itself. Polanski's wife once again, as in The Ninth Gate, plays the exotic seductress up to no good. Then again exotic seductresses always seem to be up to no good — but why Polanski sees his wife in this role is one for Dr. Shrink-a-polanski.
Polanski's wife is a large woman with large eyebrows. She has some talent as an actress but simply should not be trying to carry a movie like this. I wondered if, given the plot line — a seductive couple drifting into the thrall of sadomasochism — if Polanski was playing some sadistic game with his wife in real life, or as real life as a movie set can offer — he must have known how poorly she came across. This is what you think about when a movie tanks — how hubby and wifey are getting along. One clue that makes you think Polanski didn't catch on: the kitsch “jazz” choreography seemed to be presented “straight” — as though it was really dancing rather than an an effort by the semiotician in Polanski to make a pop culture reference to Elaine doing her herky jerky dance in a Seinfeld episode.
I wondered if others who had seen the movie felt the same way. I went to imdb.com and checked. The first review I read related how the reviewer, a guy, had cried at the searing evocation of human love. It went on and on for pages like that. The most beautiful, feeling, wonderful movie they had ever seen. In only a few of the reviews was there a chime of recognition that the movie might have an ironical, satirical subtext, and might have failed in the attempt.