You wouldn't expect the author of 'The Erasers' or 'Last Year in Marienbad' to be making nudie films. Black levels are accurate with penetrating shadows that don't ruin delineation, giving the 1. The color red is especially striking, but the entire pallet is truthful and beautiful looking. Like his detective mysteries, Robbe-Grillet deconstructs the genre into self-awareness. Some movies like Successive Slidings of Pleasure: Sorceress 1995 , The Kiss of Her Flesh 1968 , The 4th Life 2006 , The Curse of Her Flesh 1968 , A Thousand Pleasures 1968. Robbe-Grillet presents most of his sadeo-erotic imagery in artful tableaux rather than graphic 'porn' style action - and it is all rather lyrical in its' depiction.
While this may sound straight forward - the way in which the director presents the characters and situations is totally non-linear and ultimately provides no concrete conclusions. However, shortly after Lonsdale begins his investigation, he can be found peering into Alvina's room Norman Bates-style, as she walks around nude. Justin Remer is a filmmaker, oddball musician, and frequent wearer of beards. In a sense, this is Robbe-Grillete's goal as he 'plays' with the conventional mechanisms of cinema in un-conventional ways to challenge the viewer's perceptions of the reality that his screenplays promulgate, and subsequently provides a very surreal viewing experience - somewhat reminiscent of Bunuel's early works. Je garde le souvenir de certaines fulgurances, mais aussi, malheureusement, de longues scènes hermétiques,…. Of course, that is not to say that the soundtrack is completely pleasant to listen to.
No distracting hiss or pops. The girl who shared her apartment has been found dead, and a pair of scissors impaled through her heart, as she lay attached to the bedposts. It traffics in fetishism and sadomasochistic tableaux, slides effortlessly between fantasy and reality, and makes little distinction between erotic languor and rigor mortis. This film-within-a film gets more and more twisted and convoluted as it progresses, inter-cutting the self-aware director with segments of the plot. The one character who indulges in a bit of moralizing is in fact something of a villain.
It's a gonzo nonlinear structure that still follows a traditional formula but with an anticlimactic end. Every action a fated reenactment. But anyone approaching it from a purely intellectual standpoint is also going to end up fidgeting uncomfortably at various moments. Recommendation engine sorted out suspenseful, serious, scary and surprise ending films with plots about murder, female nudity, blood, death, violence, lesbian and lesbianism mostly in Horror, Thriller and Fantasy genres. This is really an 'art film' with a capital 'A' and is full of enuf ambiguities and enigmatic images and plot twists to keep the viewer constantly perplexed.
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for the narrative housed within. He just manages to create many more unsolved puzzles along the way. But in a modern world where cinemas show little but dull, formulaic, sanitised Hollywood product it still feels like an absolute breath of fresh air. The screeching sounds of sirens rushing to the apartment of the victim and her roommate being the only noise heard just prior. Though we never see the murder, we have no reason not to suspect Alvina, despite her claims that a man came in and did the killing.
In this willfully obscurantist fashion, Successive Slidings of Pleasure announces itself as a formalist jigsaw puzzle, an enigmatic parlor game structured around an ill-defined set of rules. Unfolding in a disjointed style you would expect from the author of , Successive Slidings is neither erotic nor anti-erotic. Apparently, the girl does have powers, to make all people around her fall prey to her spell, glissing progressively into desire, lust and the unknown. Do I understand why old men like to make movies with naked young women? Like many great writers of his day, he was also a talented filmmaker. Apparently, the girl does have powers, to make all people around her fall prey to her spell, glissing progressively into desire, lust, and the unknown. And this highly-stylized film, which often feels as if it belongs in an exhibition of absurdist art, is certainly an involved encounter, turning what initially seems like a typical erotic thriller into a sometimes vexing cerebral portrait of a young woman's fractured mind. But although possibly innocent, she's weirdly uncooperative with anyone who can help her, be they detectives, the nuns and priest who seem to operate the jail where she's held, or even her own lawyer who happens to be Nora's doppelganger.
The matching attributes are highlighted in bold. A young woman is questioned by the police and the judges, suspected of being a modern witch. Yet unlike Mulholland Drive, Robbe-Grillet gives the main mystery a definite conclusion. The girl who shared her apartment has been found dead, and a pair of scisors impaled through her heart, as she lay attached to the bedposts. He tends to want to go heady, and Taddeï usually brings him back down to earthier matters with questions about Olga Georges-Picot's breast implants and shooting in the dungeon where the Marquis de Sade was imprisoned.
Robbe-Grillet intentionally fractures not only the narrative, but also the audience's sense of reality. She alternately plays coy and innocent or malevolently seductive with Lonsdale, but he mostly seems to be above it. Considering the historical context of La Jetée, Trans-Europ-Express, and Successive Slidings of Pleasure, each film is arguably indicative of the preoccupation of the French intelligentsia at that time with memory and time displacement. The girl who shared her apartment has been found dead, and a pair of scisors impaled through her heart, as she lay attached to the bedposts. Employing a decidedly trenchant style of film-making littered with heady embellishments, the movie takes a legitimate yet indulgent close look at aspects of the human nature that aren't always visible but that are present nonetheless, as it provides little insight to produce a lasting impression, besides the striking visual aesthetic.
It is tempting to suggest that obsession is all the film has to offer. Then, finally, Georges-Picot is found dead with a pair of scissors sticking out of her heart, her hand still tied to the bed and her eyes still looking off lifelessly. Does that open, honest approach make the proceedings easier to accept? But if you're Robbe-Grillet, you have a reputation that you're risking. That means that people who investigate the film for purely prurient reasons are probably going to end up feeling utterly confused and probably a bit icky. Apparently, the girl does have powers, to make all people around her fall prey to her spell, glissing progressively into desire, lust, and the unknown. All submit to her sexual whims, and are drawn into a sado-masochistic world where fantasy and reality are pleasurable blurred.