Heimliche Spiele

The French do lyricism and erotica well, maybe it's the accents or the actors; more likely, the language itself. Mind you, had this been Demi Moore and Julia Roberts frolicking about, I'd have laughed myself silly; as it is, the two female leads - especially Sabrina Seyvecou - successfully show how powerful a currency sex appeal is. It begins as a feminist fable - the two girls thrown together at a strip club, consorting, exhibiting and daring one another to ever greater public displays of pleasurable posturing between hands and genitals -supposedly, in the belief that, with training, Sandrine can get an office job and sleep her way to the top.

Now, had this been tongue in cheek - and I'm not saying whose tongue, in whose cheek - had M Jean-Claude Brisseau, the director, used a lighter or defter touch, the sensual side would have melted our Haagen-Dazs and there could still have been a thought-provoking moral aspect, reflecting the power of, well, the femme fatale.

As it is, the film gets lost towards the end, implying that the playboy office boss is the real manipulator and the girls are mere pawns. The joyous, impish scenes when the two women dare one another to surreptitiously remove their underwear whilst seated in the subway, are long forgotten. Thankfully, Sabrina Seyvecou's natural charms are sufficient to blot out any significant disappointment. She could conquer my office any time.

I think the Haagen-Dazs has left a stain. At least, I think it's the Haagen-Dazs...

The opening scene in Secret Things slams you with its voyeuristic impact suggesting that this is a soft-porn exploitation in someone's private bedroom; however, the scene turns out to be an autoerotic exhibition onstage in a bar in Paris. Nathalie (Coralie Revel) is a gorgeous exotic dancer headlining in a dank bar in Paris. She is fired after a tiff with the calloused owner together with a naïve bartender Sandrine (Sabrina Seyvecou). The two ladies vow not to be used by men again. Nathalie encourages Sandrine to loosen her sexual inhibitions to get more out of life. She instructs Sandrine how to awaken her sexuality both in the bedroom and at public places such as a tunnel in the Metro. The pair decides to room together and scheme on how they will better their lot in life by using men to climb the ladder of success and become free spirits.

After the ladies land a job at the same firm, they plot on how to advance their positions using their sensuality as a manipulative tool. Nathalie quickly maneuvers a job as personnel assistant and Sandrina is now an executive secretary. Sandrina, currently an apt pupil in sexual prowess, manages to manipulate her superiors until she finally lands a position as secretary to the main supervisor. This formerly monogamous married man, who is twice Sandrine's age, falls madly in love with her to his detriment as they secretly hump their way across the screen both on the job and at other more acceptable venues. Sandrine flagrantly uses him to advance her career, yet plans on dumping him once she conquers the young CEO, a handsome and clever womanizer.

As the affair with her boss hardens, she begins to back off and he becomes more desperate to possess her. Nathalie on the other hand has fallen hard for an unrevealed lover, who apparently has dumped her. Sandrine attempts to console Nathalie and ultimately winds up in the sack with her. Now the plot begins to deteriorate as the newfound freedom they were both relishing begins to erode. Trapped by the amorous attention of her boss, Sandrine now imposes upon him to promote Nathalie to their office where they eventually indulge in a ménage à trois. This scenario further crumbles when the three are discovered in hot embrace in the restroom by the young stud of a CEO, who is even more Machiavellian than they are.

The plot now totally disintegrates into a banquet of ruthlessness, group sex, lesbian sex, three-way sex, and masturbation. Our heroines, now suffering much more than they did before they decided upon their quest to manipulate men, go along with the bizarre program foisted upon them. The story unfolds into some off the wall twists and unexpected ironies. However, when mixed with the continual bombardment of sexual exploitation, it adds little to the theme of the story. The film appears to take away more than it provides.

The first three quarters of the film are fun and interesting as we observe the women taking charge of their lives and maneuvering through office politics. The movie eventually falls apart dropping to the level of a soft-core porn movie, without rhyme or reason until the plot regresses to something secondary to the sexploitations. The director, Jean-Claude Brisseau presents quite a banquet of sexuality, turning on both men and women audiences throughout the film, while maintaining a nice balance of story and visual indulgence. This picture, in French with English subtitles, is deftly crafted so that you easily forget that you are reading everything instead of listening to the dialogue. Nathalie is so stunning and sexual on the screen that it is by itself well worth the price of admission. It is too bad the story falls apart in the third act; nevertheless, I would still recommend it for its visual arousing energy and remarkable premise.

A film about manipulative, mean-spirited and, at times, downright nasty people - and I absolutely loved it.

It's so refreshing to see a truly adult film these days. Not to mention, a film that doesn't just say it is erotic, it goes ahead and proves it. This is not a film for prudes, for those who are easily offended. But for adults who are willing to see some frank discussion about sex and some deliciously devious sexual politics, this film provides wonderful entertainment.

"Choses secrètes" is enormously entertaining with two thoroughly captivating leads. Sabrina Seyvecou, who turns in a spellbinding performance, has a sort of Heather Grahamish innocence and sexiness to her and, along with Coralie Revel, provides some of the most titillating scenes seen in a mainstream movie in many years.

There really aren't any good/wholesome characters in this film. But that's OK. (I suppose Cadene qualifies as a nice chap, but he's a minor character.) Because the cunning of the two women is so absolutely engrossing that you're quickly drawn into their wicked world. Watching them use people for their own ends and not quite knowing who is manipulating whom is one of the many charms of this sensual and exciting film.

The film comes apart toward the end. Unravels a bit, especially when writer/director Jean-Claude Brisseau resorts to awfully heavy-handed (and needless) symbolism. There's also a superfluous orgy scene that comes out of nowhere. I wish Brisseau would have come up with an original, atypical, less conventional denouement for his story.

If you like the works of Neil LaBute - "The Shape of Things," "Your Friends and Neighbors" and "In the Company of Men" - you should appreciate and enjoy "Choses secrètes."

Nathalie (Coralie Revel) is an exotic dancer, and Sandrine (Sabrina Seyvecou) is a bartender. They get fired by their scumbag boss and move in together where Nathalie teaches Sandrine how to use her femininity to capture men. They devise a plan to move up in the corporate world using sex to succeed.

They both get hired at the same bank and set their sights on Christophe Barnay (Fabrice Deville), as he will inherit the firm one day. She has no idea how twisted he truly is.

First, Sandrine gets a position under Delacroix (Delacroix), and uses her charms to completely captivate him. She gets Nathalie moved to the office, and soon they are a menage a trois for one night, as Christophe catches them and dismisses Delacroix, while promoting the both of them to higher positions.

Sandrine becomes involved with Christophe and his sister in another menage a trois. This leads to marriage and an amazing ending after his father dies.

Brilliant cinematography and music, and a fascinating story.

Sexual politics in the workplace are nothing new to the movies. It can be terrific stomping ground for social satire. But, rarely have I seen it given a worse treatment than in Jean-Claude Brisseau's good-looking but shallow SECRET THINGS.

Two French hotties, Sandrine and Nathalie, are booted from the bar where they both work for refusing to have sex with a patron and defending that decision, respectively. Soon, they're moving in together and engaging in an endless series of sexual exploits themselves to prove they aren't like everyone else. If they can screw in public and get away with it, what _don't_ they have the nerve for? Both women are unemployed, and both have healthy sexual appetites. Why not use what they have to get what they want -- in this case, climb the corporate ladder? It's a logical step, I guess. But, then Sandrine seems perfectly competent in her new job without the sex stuff. Sure, all the men want her, and without having to so much as flash a smile their direction, she's on her way to being promoted. So, why the insistence on manipulating men, too? I mean, aside from the bar incident, have they been wronged in some way? What makes these women tick?

The film doesn't quite know, and it _has_ to. Otherwise, it's just sex scenes strung together in no discernible order for no apparent reason other than to be titillating on top of intellectual. Only, it isn't either, really. It's far too talky, for one thing, and it doesn't make a great deal of sense; someone please explain to me why there's a wedding in this film. If not for the occasional display of the female form in all its glory, SECRET THINGS would be unendurable. The overheated episodes between Sandrine and Nathalie (mostly the masturbatory variety) are energetic but redundant, and there's an EYES WIDE SHUT-esque orgy scene that comes out of left field, for no apparent reason other than two minutes have gone by without a sex scene. Then again, this movie hits narrative bankruptcy long before. And the ending, if you can stay awake long enough, is absurd.

SECRET THINGS is not nearly as brazen or interesting or complex as it thinks it is. I don't have the energy to hate it, nor would I waste it if I did. The projector stopped about three times throughout an interminable hour and fifty-minute running time; I wish it had stopped more.