La daga en el corazón

This reminded me a lot of the heydays of Giallos. The colors, the story and even the gay and lesbian scene's. They are just on the edge of explicit, so typical French.

It wasn't really my thing because the whole movie is about the gay scene, so I can understand if you are into that you will love this. You can easily find out who the killer is, it's all explained in the second part of this flick.

Why I watched it, I grew up with Vanessa Paradis. So it was nice to see she's still standing an din fact still looks the same.

Calling it a Giallo isn't maybe all correct but back then you had some explicit sexual tinted Giallos and myabe it fits into that genre. But a bit of weak story tears it down.

Gore 0/5 Nudity 1/5 Effects 2/5 Story 2/5 Comedy 0/5

Sitges Film Festival Review

Story, Setting, Characters, Mood etc. are all pretty cool on paper. I think the pure script of the movie is pretty awesome. Sadly the version shown at the Sitges Film Festival did not manage to put these elements together as one flowing film. It felt unfinished in many aspects. The heart is at the very right place. But the execution did not do it justice.

I have a sick sense of humor.

So it wasn't a surprise that during most of the run time for "Heart + Knife" I was laughing my-ass off. The scenario was ridiculous, but I found a lot to relate to here as a gay man, and as a B-Movie, Giallo and cheesy gay art porn lover.

This is good camp. Like an absurd mash up of early Pedro Almodovar, James Bigod, John Waters and Gregg Araki with a little Clair Denis drama for good measure.

For me, it worked. And is one of the better queer films I've seen in a while. It's refreshingly shameless and at times very funny. You wouldn't see a film like this made in the US nowadays!

Actor Nicolas Maury was a standout for me, playing the assistant to troubled porno directress Vanessa Paradis. Every time he appeared he was reliable for a good laugh, especially during the film within a film porno scenes.

So yeah, this isn't heady stuff. It's fromage.

The kind of film that goes well with wine, weed and an open mind. Film snobs and conservatives should leave their badges at the door.

KNIFE+HEART isn't the first work of art to combine the specter of the AIDS epidemic, the sex positivity of the gay liberation movement (which came to a crashing halt with the emergence of AIDS), and the conventions of horror/thriller/slasher films. In poetry form, Kevin Killian's 1997 ARGENTO SERIES fused the brightly colored blood splatter of SUSPIRIA with the inexplicable death toll of HIV. Probably my favorite of all such works, however, is Alain Guiraudie's 2014 film STRANGER BY THE LAKE, which yearns for the titillation of casual sex even as it constantly exudes the threatening possibilities inherent in such encounters in a way that's truly unsettling.

KNIFE+HEART isn't about AIDS, per se, but it does pile on a nicely textured layer of meanings about the interlocking nature of the sex and the death drive. The violent impulses that underlie S&M fantasies; the death of the ego that makes dance floors, drug trips, and uninhibited sexual encounters equally ecstatic; the orgasmic peak that led English Renaissance poets to use "die" as a metaphoric synonym for "climax"; the "death" of the presumed-straight child that occurs whenever a queer adolescent or adult comes out of the closet and must then sometimes abandon past expectations, past claims to identity, and links to old family and friends; the loss a parent might feel when a child leaves for a safer queer space like the city; the loss of one's individuality when entering into a committed partnership with another person; the godlike control over life and death that lies in both the hands of the artist and the medium of photography, which captures and preserves moments in time; and the literal violence and murder perpetrated against not only queer and trans people but also sex workers in general--KNIFE+HEART is about all of this, I think, and probably a lot more, including things perhaps too personal for a viewer to decipher.

KNIFE+HEART carries a heavy load of theoretical possibilities, but it never comes across as pretentious or overladen. Rather, it's consistently engaging, with campy excesses of giallo bloodshed, a proliferation of cute boys, a pulsing soundtrack by M83, and bits of both levity and realism that make it moving even though it is essentially, like the best of Argento, utterly ridiculous and implausible. It may not have quite the same high style that peak Argento had, but it definitely has a lot more substance.

The word giallo is thrown around in a lot of the reviews here - and not least of which in the description on MUBI - but it strikes me that Yann Gonzalez isn't necessarily all that interested in getting some shocks or indulging so much in the kill set pieces (not that he doesn't completely, with one involving lots of 360 degree pans revealing in each succession the killer approaching and then slicing away) as much as he is in pushing the colors that hes working with and mixing film stocks and, in his way, doing a meta comment on using art as a way to fight back.

When Vanessa Paradis's Anne goes to a police station to be briefly questioned about one of her actors being offed, this is then cut away to her recreating this with her own actors (Anal Fury 5 quickly becomes "Homocidal," the best pun you never thought of because why would you), and when she thinks she can draw out who may be the killer, she quickly stages a scene of sado-masochism... And gets what she is asking for (in the one scene that is truly suspenseful). What I'm trying to say here is that if you go in to Knife+Heart expecting a usual Argento or Fulci or one of those directors, you'll be not so much disappointed as thrown off.

And yes, MUBI, it is "unapologetically queer", which, you know, good. But it is also unapologetically French: the Italians had their own method of madness when it came to drawing out violent and/or surreal set pieces (one commonality is a lush and vibrant and spine-tingling score), and this has some surrealism as well, like with the black and white 16mm that feels like it's deliberately cut in from another movie.

But it also embraces and in fact demands that it be erotic and push the limits (albeit no actual genitals are seen, they might as well be), and Gonzalez is in love with color in a particular way. When we see red, it feels especially red and fiery; when we see blue, it's particularly somber and sad. And black? Well, that's the name of the game, man/woman - darkness is all around these characters, but what I also find striking is that, for the types the gay actors and some crew are, they feel like real people, which I often didn't get from Italian Giallos.

One issue though is that it is a director preferring style over substance. He loves Paradis clearly and what she can bring, but her role is thin and I never really felt for her (though she is, without spoiling, denied her moment of redemption that should come). Maybe that makes her more tragic, but I just didn't feel it, and that is what also is more French to me than anything - the sense of doomed romance and ennui which... Cool. But it's definitely more of a visual and sensory experience than one for story or real pathos.