Love

The script is laughable and the acting (often voice-over), too. The 3D sex is well marketed. And yes, during certain scenes people got up and left. Yet. The film doesn't argue to be anything beyond a meandering stroll into the gallows melancholy. And it does this very very well. The film features no highbrow intellectual conversations but instead, favors the same lines you've probably slung at your lovers. Again and again and again. Just like the sex you've had with your lovers again and again and again. You know their bodies and you know how to please them and above all, you know how to hurt them. Sorrow. There's a resplendent simplicity here that hypnotizes the viewer.

You hear music banging inside the club, yet the lovers are outside in halflight. Having sex, obviously. This is a good image of what this film surprisingly achieves best: intimacy. And it fights for that with it's magnificent camera-work and editing.

But what would this review be if it didn't talk about the 3D sex? Love and cinema are inseparable. Love stories are why you stick glued to a chair for a couple of hours. Raw sex is part of love, yet, films used to cut to birds necking after a kiss. Then it became steamy windows. Signs, metaphors, analogies, semiotic nausea. And here, Noé takes that away which makes the film even coarser, and ultimately more brutal.

I wanted to write this review because the whole marketing ("finally a love story restricted for -16) and shock value (an eye-rolling warning in the opening credits) have cheapened what this film has achieved and I encourage viewers to look beyond.

Let's just get this out of the way, there is a lot of unsimulated sex in this movie. This is definitely on par with porn, but since it was shot with "real" actors it was allowed in theaters. I did see somewhere online that there is a super cut of all the sex scenes from this and it comes in at just under 30 minutes, so let that inform your decision to watch or not.

This is a story of a couple that are in a very sexual relationship and decide to invite their beautiful neighbor to join them. This causes problems.

If you like 9 Songs then you will most decidedly like this. Love probably features more sex but does offer a lot more plot as well.

I always have problems with beginnings – the beginning of an article, the beginning of a film, the beginning of a relationship, simply because beginnings are crucial in setting the tone and pattern that will lead you all the way through till the end. Naturally being affected by all the negative social media propaganda that Gaspar Noé's Love (2015) has stirred, I was reluctant to even begin watching it because I am inclined to believe that films with explicit sexual content (except for Lars von Trier's Nymphomaniac, and I will tackle why in another review) are made either to sell like cheap porn for lucrative reasons or to assume a false air of originality and experimentation. I have finally decided to watch Love after it was recommended by a trusted friend of mine, and at the end of the day, one has to constantly push their limits in terms of artistic tolerance.

Back to the beginnings, Love begins with a three-minute scene taken in one shot by a steady camera of two people having what seems to be – and what actually turns out to be – unsimulated sex. After overcoming my feelings of discomfort, I started to understand what the Argentinian director is trying to do here. Is it a pornographic scene? It definitely is. But is it meant to be sexually arousing? I would have to argue for a no. Sexual excitement requires a certain amount of build-up, but jumping directly and unexpectedly into the act generates nothing but feelings of shock and unease that would need some time to fade away.

The story then unfolds in a backward linear plot. We are introduced to Murphy (the man in the opening sex scene), a frustrated young man who lives in a small apartment in Paris with his detached girlfriend and their son. The memory-evoked reversed narrative is instigated by a voice message he receives from the mother of his ex-girlfriend Electra (the woman from the opening sex scene), asking for his help to find her daughter. The man and the woman from the first sex scene are no longer strangers; we get to see how they broke up, how they managed their relationship, and finally how they met, with a heap of very long unsimulated sex scenes in between.

As a voyeur (a person who discreetly watches other people in intimate, usually sexual, positions) I was extremely confused since the enjoyment element was missing. Is it because the sex scenes were too many, too long, too real, or too unnecessary? In one of the scenes Murphy says, as a cunning gesture to voice Gaspar Noé's desire, his biggest dream is to make a movie like no other that truly portrays sentimental sexuality. He also tells Electra: "I want to make movies out of blood, sperm and tears. This is like the essence of life. I think movies should contain that, perhaps should be made of that." Well, we see a lot of sperm and tears in that film, there is no doubt about it. It is true Love depicts relationships from an exceptionally crude, raw angle I have never seen before. Sex in cinema – and in life in general – is an uncanny subject; it lies at the essence of everything, everybody knows it is there, yet nobody talks about it overtly.. not in realistic terms at least. The film feels emotionally real. Too real. And not just when it comes to sex, but also to dialogue and performance. In one scene, Murphy tries to get Electra back and he keeps knocking on her door, after a few seconds she opens the door, apparently under the influence of drugs, and screams at him in the most deranged manner you could ever imagine. The camera does not move; it feels like a terrified neighbor watching the scene from the stairs. Most of the camera movement and angles follow the same pattern throughout the movie: the neutral uninvolved medium shot. Mid-film I realized it was not the sex scenes that made me uncomfortable but the fact that the film is devoid of any cinematic, stylistic euphemisms. In conventional romantic films, there is an invisible line separating the romantic from the sexual – love from desire. The subtle message is always: love is sublime and desire is vulgar. The reality of the things, and as presented in the film, is that both are inseparable in their sublimity and vulgarity.

I cannot tell for sure whether I like it or not. Cinema, as Slavoj Žižek puts it, is "the ultimate pervert art" because it does not directly satisfy our desires but manipulates them. It does not show us our capabilities, but give us the illusion that we are capable. Cinema draws the line between imagination and reality and keeps crisscrossing the boundary: it takes imaginary elements and roots them in reality, and sugarcoats real elements in imaginary wraps. The trick is not to call a spade a spade, i.e. not to place two firm feet on one side of the spectrum; otherwise you would shake the balance between reality and imagination that the viewer cannot find in real life.

Whatever your sentiments are towards the film, Noé – purposefully or inadvertently – raises some important issues: what if cinema does away with the aesthetics of presentational euphemism? Would it undermine its role as an artistic medium? Would it put the viewer on the defensive, being constantly faced with the unrefined reality of what (s)he dreads/desires?

The way I see it is that Noé created an extremely stimulating film, not sexually as he probably desired but intellectually and sentimentally.

I'm grateful I watched Love alone and had the chance to struggle with and make sense of all those feelings and thoughts by myself. I can imagine how uncomfortable it would be watching it in a movie theater with other people, let alone how the actors felt while shooting!

Love, a film by the provocative French director Gaspar Noe, offers a unique perspective on sex and relationships. While it can be considered an arthouse porn movie, Love's well-crafted cinematography and authentic portrayal of relationships make it intriguing.

Notably, the film sparked discussions due to its unsimulated sex scenes. Noe treats these sequences like meticulously choreographed action pieces, broken up by scenes of dialogue and drama. While one could debate the necessity of these scenes, they undeniably contribute to the film's pursuit of authenticity, as the actors genuinely engage in sexual acts. This rawness adds a level of intimacy seldom witnessed on screen. This added realism is necessary, as the acting, while serviceable, is never great.

However, the inner monologue of our protagonist, Murphy, often comes across as painfully pretentious and grating, detracting from the overall experience. Similarly, the confrontations between Murphy and Electra are cringe-inducing, intentionally highlighting the discomfort and awkwardness that often accompanies real-life relationship conflicts when viewed from the outside.

At 134 minutes, the film is too long, especially when the main character is as unlikeable and toxic as Murphy. It's surprising that a movie titled Love presents such a pessimistic view of love and monogamy, yet this unexpected perspective enhances the film's intrigue and allure.

... and no I am not talking about the characters in the film, I am talking about what happens when an A-list director "falls in love" with the idea of doing a sexually explicit film.

I want to be clear about this and I think the data will bear me out. Make a list of all the films in the last 100 years by A-list directors who felt confident they could infringe on territory formerly occupied only by the porn industry and still prevail with a hit film...? Are you done? I will save you time. I did the list myself. And the answer is none, zero, zip, nada.

Just like there are in the porn industry a handful of directors who constantly try to push the boundaries of their craft into the mainstream (which almost always means soft light and lots of white sheets, films that most resemble a commercial for TIDE) Noe, a brilliant artiste (Irreversible and Enter the Void were both brilliant) tried to push the envelope .. and ended up with junk mail.

Sure, if you are determined to see a silk purse where others are seeing a sow's ear, you could pretend that this film has a great deal to say about men's expectations about love and marriage.

But this is a review just between the writer and the reader, and we respect each other too much to lie. So I will be clear -- Noe went where angels fear to tread. And ended up with a film that, for posterity, is simply not going to make his A-reel.