Vol. II spends only a little time with the teenaged Joe, continuing the mostly comedic tone of Vol. I. Soon, however, Charlotte Gainsbourg takes over from Stacy Martin, depicting the adult years of her life. And this is where the film gets decidedly darker.

Von Trier of course has a penchant for mixing bleak drama with comedy. Here he does the same, with less than perfect results. Part of the problem is that it’s much harder to sympathise with Gainsbourg’s Joe than it was with Martin’s. Joe’s self-loathing reaches new peaks in Vol. II (though thankfully, not manifesting the same way it did in Antichrist) and through it all, she wears a pained expression that has a tendency to become tiresome.

It also gets frustrating. Whereas we could dismiss Joe’s confusion at her own unbridled desire when she was younger, as a grown woman it’s easy to get impatient with her. A sequence in a sex addict help group doesn’t seem to go anywhere, whilst the present day discussions between Joe and Seligman are less interesting and more like annoying distractions.

One thing that really impresses in Vol. II are the scenes Gainsbourg shares with Jamie Bell. His character of K provides a specific service, the kind that no one else can, and his scenes crackle with ominous tension. Of course, it’s been a long time since Billy Elliott, but all the same, Bell does surprise in a wonderfully fiendish role. Don’t be surprised if you see him specialising in villainous portrayals over in Hollywood somewhere down the line.

At the end of the day, Vol. II is unsatisfying. It meanders to a conclusion, and the presence of a montage of Joe’s life towards the end doesn’t go far enough in making us feel like we’ve arrived anywhere in particular after this oh so very long and circuitous journey. The entire Nymphomaniac experience didn’t really need to be four hours and ten minutes. The fact that von Trier’s ideal version of the film was even longer makes me wonder at the relevance of any of the stuff left on the cutting room floor. Feature film explorations of female sexuality are few and far between, so that’s one reason to recommend the two films. Other than that, it’s for von Trier über fans only.

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Nymphomaniac opens with the well-read Seligman (Stellan Skarsgård) stumbling across the beaten and bloody Joe (Gainsbourg) in an alley close to his home. She refuses an ambulance, so he takes her to his apartment. Here, the two begin talking and she recounts her life story.

Joe doesn’t have a very high opinion of herself. In fact, surprise surprise, her own self-loathing is rather epic. This shouldn’t astonish those familiar with von Trier’s work, since we’ve seen this type of lead female characters in the likes of Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark, not to mention his previous two works. The good news is that, this time around, Joe is also a somewhat sympathetic character. I don’t know about other viewers, but I had trouble feeling for Gainsbourg’s ‘She’ in Antichrist. Here, her self-loathing is similar, in that it seems to be a direct result of the patriarchy, but at least we get to see her smiling, if only early in the piece.

Stacy Martin plays the teenaged Joe, and her presence lights up the screen. Indeed, much of Vol. I could be classified as a comedy. Her exploration of sexual desire throughout her youth is admittedly very clinical, but she does at least appear to be enjoying herself. This, in isolation, is enough to set Nymphomaniac apart from the bulk mainstream cinematic output. That we have a four hour, epic exploration of female sexuality is a rarity. The most recent film dealing with sex addiction I have seen would have been the Michael Fassbender-starring Shame, with which this film shares some tonal similarities.

The cinematography is a mixed bag. Comprising beautiful, high resolution images captured on film, gritty handheld camerawork and grainy stock footage, von Trier has done his usual thing: subverting visual cinematic traditions to his own benefit. It can be jarring, particularly when the scenes filmed in the present, set in a single room of Seligman’s house, look very much like a stage set, recalling the appearance of 2003’s Dogville.

Nymphomaniac Vol. 1 is episodic in nature, switching between amusing anecdotes from Joe’s youth to philosophical debates in the present between herself and Seligman, the latter of which become knowingly ridiculous. Like The Princess Bride did all those years ago, both of these characters often intrude upon the flashbacks, commenting on the nature of the storytelling, which makes for some nicely humorous moments.

The film features a huge supporting cast. Shia LaBeouf is probably the third most prevalent performer in the film, and he does a good job even if his version of an English accent is distracting. Of particular mention though is Uma Thurman, who absolutely owns the single scene in which she features.

If you generally like von Trier’s films but found Antichrist too gruelling, then this may be more your thing. The same can’t be said for Vol. II, however…

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That’s right: this is the kind of film that must walk a very fine line. One slight misstep and you’re sailing towards outright offensiveness or unintentional hilarity. Naomi Watts and Robin Wright are cast as the two mothers, Lil and Roz, whilst Xavier Samuel and James Frecheville are their respect sons, Ian and Tom. Lil and Roz are lifelong friends and neighbours, and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else, or apart from each other, for that matter. That seems sweet until they then pursue sexual relationships with each other’s adult sons.

Some online have raised the point that, if the genders were reversed, this film wouldn’t have been made. Perhaps, but that’s probably because the much older man/younger woman pairing has been done to death in cinema. This is a much rarer premise, and one I think is worth exploring, but only if the filmmakers have something interesting to say.

For me, the main problem with Adoration is it doesn’t explore one very crucial issue: the love Lil and Roz have for each other. Is their love for their respective sons actually masking their real desire? The suggestion is raised more than once, but never really goes anywhere. Instead we have a fairly basic narrative that simply ponders the question of ‘what if’ and takes it to its logical conclusion. Forbidden love is a decent enough concept for a feature film, but if we’re not told why it’s happening in the first place, it merely comes off as scandalous for the sake of selling tickets.

The strength of the performances can’t be denied, however there are easily a dozen moments in Adoration that simply don’t work. This is a good-looking film that ticks along at a brisk pace, but feels more like a raunchy limerick than a poetic tale of forbidden love.

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When Eun-yi (Do-yeon Jeon) gets a job working as nanny and housemaid in the home of an exceptionally wealthy family, she immediately falls for her young charge Nami (Ahn Seo-hyeon), but she also garners the attention of the man of the house, Hoon (Lee Jung Jae). When the inevitable affair occurs, all of the home’s residents will be drawn into the machinations and recriminations that ensue.

This is a particularly striking film to look at, and the film’s luscious appearance is a perfect match for the lifestyle on display: enough food is thrown out at the end of the day to feed a large family, and wealth is conspicuous in every room of the home. The visual successes are somewhat distracting, however, as they mask a degree of confusion about some of the characters and their choices. It also feels something of a barrier to truly engaging with the plight of the subjects, almost as if the veneer prevents the audience from empathising.

As an erotic thriller, the film succeeds in being erotic in its first act and thrilling in its second and third, although the film actually feels a little unbalanced, with a preponderance of time spent on the negative consequences of the first act. With minutes to go, however, it veers into the bizarre, and it won’t be surprising if many find it hard to relate to as a result.** The almost dreamlike absurdity of the final moments is presumably intended to show how little difference Eun-yi’s actions make, but the clash in styles is too disconcerting for the effect to be maintained.

Charged with carrying this film from start to bitter end, Jeon does a wonderful job of making Eun-yi’s actions understandable, and the disastrous results of the affair are all the more devastating as the audience is compelled by Jeon’s charisma and skill to support her. Lee is just smug enough to manage the role of Hoon, while Seo Woo does a fair job of Hoon’s conflicted wife Hae-ra.

While the film is certainly entertaining, it could be that the director’s implicit criticism and social commentary might be lost on Western viewers. Sex, however, is universal, and most everyone will be able to relate to this story of lust and its sometimes unforeseen consequences.

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When Sandrine happens upon a philosophising old man on her lunch break she decides that her life is prime for upheaval. The next day she hooks up with a man whom she meets in a café, then comes home to tell her fiancé about it. Unsurprisingly, the fiancé leaves and she begins a journey of sexual discovery with this new man and his friends. It’s never really clear what Sandrine hopes to achieve. After being engaged for six years(!), the humdrum of everyday life was apparently getting to her. I would have expected her to pack up and travel the world, but – for better or worse – it seems to only be about sex.

À l’aventure is very explicit, though in an appallingly sexist fashion we only see female nudity. I mean head to toe female nudity, and not even one male bottom. It’s strange to say the least, and contributes to a general soft core porn atmosphere. The pattern is established pretty early on: people sitting around talking… people having sex… people sitting around talking… people having sex. It’s frequently amusing wondering just how the lightweight philosophical conversation is going to turn to boinking, as it invariably does.

Aside from female orgies in modern day castle surrounds, this film has little to offer. Sandrine’s new man Greg is a hypnotist, which leads to the best scenes in the film. The most eerie moment occurs when one of the characters enters a trance only to relive a forgotten experience from the time she spent in a nunnery. Rather than distract us with a showy flashback, Brisseau instead keeps the camera on the actress, making for one hell of a scene. Of course, we soon get back to the sex after that, but it does mean that the film offers that teensy bit more than your average erotic thriller.

À l’aventure is a mildly entertaining if ultimately silly outing, though entertaining enough as far as ‘mystical orgy’ films go.

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Tang plays Wong Chia Chi, a university student who joins a group of amateur resistance fighters, determined to bring about the downfall of the Japanese occupation. This leads her to Mr. Yee (Tony Leung Chiu Wai). The caution mentioned in the title refers both to the precarious nature of Wong’s mission, but also the fact that Yee is paranoid of assassination, living in a fortress and always accompanied by several guards. The lust of course refers to the increasingly intimate nature of their encounters.

Lust, Caution is a thoroughly entrancing if slow paced affair, but like most of Lee’s films, once it finishes it leaves you feeling a little cheated. I expected something… bigger. There are several brilliant scenes, but it overall it was a little too understated for my tastes. Of course, The Hulk was anything but understated, and disappointing all the way through, so I’m not easy to please.

One of the main problems is our heroine, Wong. We’re never given any hint as to why she’s prepared to go to the lengths she does. Her work becomes more and more dangerous, and her infiltration of the Lee family is nigh flawless, but I never knew why it was she was willing to go so far. Leung is great, tempering moments of cold-hearted stoicism with an almost childish meekness. The sex scenes are fairly graphic, but didn’t feel overly gratuitous. The almost sadistic nature of them is more than a little disturbing, however, as the sex is often initiated through acts of violence.

As a slow burn thriller, Lust, Caution works rather well. At 157 minutes it can be trying, and the denouement is rather disappointing after all the hard work put in by not just the cast and crew, but the audience.

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Attempting to tell the story of a one-year relationship primarily by observing the couple’s sex life, 9 Songs is voyeurism in the extreme. Matt and Lisa attend music concerts, they meet at one in fact, and they have sex. That’s it apparently. We’re not shown their external lives – although we’re told Lisa has a job, and Matt has a laptop he occasionally glances at, which suggests he has one too – we spend most of the 69 minutes of this film watching them screw. On the table, in the bath, orally, vaginally, by hand, by appliance… there isn’t much we don’t see here. With close up shots, erections and ejaculations, and ‘actual’ sex (as opposed to simulated like in Hollywood), 9 Songs is more a porn flick than I had realised, going some way to explaining the recent fuss about whether it should be banned in Australia. (It had originally been rated ‘X’ by the Office of Film and Literature Classification, but this was reduced to an ‘R’ on appeal).

All of this sex is dressed up as meaningful and instructional on the development and eventual failure of their relationship, which it sadly isn’t, and we are also subjected to flyovers of Antarctica of all places, supposedly with some significance as simile. Much of this falls flat, unfortunately, leaving this film as barren of substance as the plateaus of the Ross Ice Shelf.

The leads struggle along, with little dialogue and almost no acting required – they are no more than meat, manipulated this way and that by their director. The cinematography is of the hand-held style I despise, with poorly lit shots cluttered with shadows. The bizarre use of lens filters also makes much of what is shown difficult to actually see – maybe explaining the reduction in the OFLC’s rating? The score is plain annoying, and the use of live footage of many of Britain’s major rock bands fails to lift this film – the concert scenes, which I assume were supposed to educate us further, only serve to break up the sex.

This is a very disappointing film, so obsessed with showing every variation of sexual position and act, that it fails to allow any variation in character. Its heroes are one-dimensional sex objects, whose eventual separation came as a relief.

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The Dreamers seems to solidify the notion that the director is well past his peak. Sure, it’s confronting, and sometimes sexy, but on the whole this is a fairly insubstantial film. Again, I wasn’t around in the 60s and 70s, but the points made by Michael Pitt’s character Matthew are pretty darn obvious.

Michael Pitt is of course one of the reasons I was persuaded to hire this film. After Bully, Murder By Numbers and The Village I thought it would be interesting to see him in a lead role. He does ok in The Dreamers, but the film simply isn’t up to scratch.

The distributors seemed to sell this as a very naughty film, but the sexual scenes aren’t particularly shocking really. Most of it is done by suggestion, and at times seems a little half hearted.

Nothing special.

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Angelina Jolie is a great actor (yes, I said actor – male actor, female actor, ok? Got it? Now move on), and this film is no exception. So what if she’s not really stretched herself dramatically since Girl, Interrupted? That does seem to be the trend with great actors who begin making heaps and heaps of money. Similarly, I haven’t been really impressed with Banderas since the fantastic Assassins. The two are a great match in Original Sin, however, and I doubt the film could have been made without these two particular actors. (Okay, so it’s possibly to argue that this film has been made with different actors many many times before, there’s nothing new here… but all the same, I’m getting a little too paranoid in my reviews… covering my tracks… watching my step… can’t be too careful… the moment you turn your back POW Mark is working for urbancinefile and I’m out on my arse with no webmaster and only a rudimentary knowledge of Dreamweaver 3.0.)

Um, where was I? Okay, yes this film was quite enjoyable. Whilst I guessed a couple of the twists (they’re kinda obvious) that’s not to say that it wasn’t entertaining. The production design is stunning, and this film can be quite beautiful to look at… and I’m not just talking about Banderas and Jolie gettin’ fleshy – I’m sure you’ve heard about that already. Yes, they have quite a bit of fun early on whilst nekkid, however this is only a small part in the film (he he! I said ‘small part’! Okay, so I’m just jealous of Antonio’s good looks, it’s true).

Oh, and Aussie Jack Thomson is here too, although I seem to remember being more impressed with his American accent in Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. He’s not really very important to this film, however. Thomas Jane (yes, that guy you thought was a dick in Deep Blue Sea) is here also, and he does admirably in a role that harboured the most predictions on my part.

Overall this film achieved its goals admirably, even if it got a bit too smug at the end.

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