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ULTIMO TANGO A PARIGI [Last Tango in Paris] - 1972, Bernardo Bertolucci
Stars: Marlon Brando, Maria Schneider
One would be hard-pressed to find a movie with reactions as strongly contrasting as the ones to Last Tango in Paris. For every cinematic luminary hailing it as a masterpiece, there is another who reduces it to bad pornography. I am on the exceedingly positive side as far as response to the film goes. This is one of the most vividly emotional cinema experiences I’ve ever had, and I can remember my first viewing of it more clearly than with almost any other film.
The movie follows a hopelessly broken man’s descent into darkness, which is indirectly connected to an anonymous affair with an eccentric young woman. The man, Paul, is not the sort of character we normally see in movies. The combination of his misdirected fits of rage, psychological turbulence and frankly human qualities are unpleasant to behold, and the choice to cast Brando in that role is one of the best in cinema history. Paul’s wife commits suicide, and in an attempt to stifle his pain, he engages in an anonymous sadomasochistic affair with a young woman, Jeanne (Maria Schneider).
With Last Tango, Bertolucci crafts an unnerving picture with profound nuances that expose themselves more clearly with every viewing. One of the most distinct elements of the film that contribute to its bleak, disquieting atmosphere is the photography. Vittorio Storaro, whose pristine camerawork in Il Conformista (1970) astonished people, breaks a lot of rules in this movie and as a result amplifies our sense of unease. The minimal use of artificial lighting, unexpected movement and unbalanced composition all work to the benefit of illustrating misery and lives led astray.
The film is infamous for its sex scenes (“go get the butter”), but I would personally say that its portrayal of sexuality is anything but erotic. Brando’s performance is deeply disturbing, and the despair of his misguided search for intimacy is hard to watch at times. With Paul, Brando shapes a performance that is wholly human and as a result is more powerful than almost any acting one is likely to see otherwise. In one of the movie’s most memorable scenes, Paul unleashes a grieved, enraged tirade at the body of his dead wife. The monologue is inflamed with cruel language and agonized candidness, and it is hard to ignore the fact that the line between acting and reality is blurred.
That’s just one example in the picture where Brando’s acting stands out, but I consider this to be the strongest work of his career. He was the greatest film actor in history, as far as I am concerned, and anyone who aspires for a career in performance is obligated to see what he does in Last Tango in Paris. At one point he admitted that he didn’t understand this film, but it is blatantly obvious that he had an apt understanding of his character.
Maria Schneider’s acting in the movie is often overlooked, partially because she is opposite one of the industry’s most beloved professionals. I think it’s unfair to dismiss her performance, which is actually quite brave and audacious. She was twenty-two years old at the time the film was made, and playing a substantial portion of it nude. Her undoubted reservations are at no point evident, and she builds an engaging character who is exciting to watch even beside the likes of Mr. Brando.
This movie encompasses the intimacy of human interaction so adeptly that it is easy to forget we’re watching a film. The largely improvised dialogue works to underline the sincerity of its characters, and by the time it arrives at the tragic conclusion we are emotionally invested in both of the leads. Often criticized for a great number of things, I think the successes of the picture more than outnumber its shortcomings (if it has any). Bernardo Bertolucci’s artful direction and some truly fine acting are at the core of Last Tango's greatness.
MY RATING: 5/5
Stars: Marlon Brando, Maria Schneider
One would be hard-pressed to find a movie with reactions as strongly contrasting as the ones to Last Tango in Paris. For every cinematic luminary hailing it as a masterpiece, there is another who reduces it to bad pornography. I am on the exceedingly positive side as far as response to the film goes. This is one of the most vividly emotional cinema experiences I’ve ever had, and I can remember my first viewing of it more clearly than with almost any other film.
The movie follows a hopelessly broken man’s descent into darkness, which is indirectly connected to an anonymous affair with an eccentric young woman. The man, Paul, is not the sort of character we normally see in movies. The combination of his misdirected fits of rage, psychological turbulence and frankly human qualities are unpleasant to behold, and the choice to cast Brando in that role is one of the best in cinema history. Paul’s wife commits suicide, and in an attempt to stifle his pain, he engages in an anonymous sadomasochistic affair with a young woman, Jeanne (Maria Schneider).
With Last Tango, Bertolucci crafts an unnerving picture with profound nuances that expose themselves more clearly with every viewing. One of the most distinct elements of the film that contribute to its bleak, disquieting atmosphere is the photography. Vittorio Storaro, whose pristine camerawork in Il Conformista (1970) astonished people, breaks a lot of rules in this movie and as a result amplifies our sense of unease. The minimal use of artificial lighting, unexpected movement and unbalanced composition all work to the benefit of illustrating misery and lives led astray.
The film is infamous for its sex scenes (“go get the butter”), but I would personally say that its portrayal of sexuality is anything but erotic. Brando’s performance is deeply disturbing, and the despair of his misguided search for intimacy is hard to watch at times. With Paul, Brando shapes a performance that is wholly human and as a result is more powerful than almost any acting one is likely to see otherwise. In one of the movie’s most memorable scenes, Paul unleashes a grieved, enraged tirade at the body of his dead wife. The monologue is inflamed with cruel language and agonized candidness, and it is hard to ignore the fact that the line between acting and reality is blurred.
That’s just one example in the picture where Brando’s acting stands out, but I consider this to be the strongest work of his career. He was the greatest film actor in history, as far as I am concerned, and anyone who aspires for a career in performance is obligated to see what he does in Last Tango in Paris. At one point he admitted that he didn’t understand this film, but it is blatantly obvious that he had an apt understanding of his character.
Maria Schneider’s acting in the movie is often overlooked, partially because she is opposite one of the industry’s most beloved professionals. I think it’s unfair to dismiss her performance, which is actually quite brave and audacious. She was twenty-two years old at the time the film was made, and playing a substantial portion of it nude. Her undoubted reservations are at no point evident, and she builds an engaging character who is exciting to watch even beside the likes of Mr. Brando.
This movie encompasses the intimacy of human interaction so adeptly that it is easy to forget we’re watching a film. The largely improvised dialogue works to underline the sincerity of its characters, and by the time it arrives at the tragic conclusion we are emotionally invested in both of the leads. Often criticized for a great number of things, I think the successes of the picture more than outnumber its shortcomings (if it has any). Bernardo Bertolucci’s artful direction and some truly fine acting are at the core of Last Tango's greatness.
MY RATING: 5/5