Last night I saw "The Lover" on video. I couldn't speak or move for a few moments after the final credits. I just sat there, half staring, half crying.
A poor French teenager from a dysfunctional family is leaning over the railing on a barge sweating through southeast Asia. A meticulously groomed Chinese man in a three piece white suit is staring at her, telegraphing that if this isn't, for him, love at first sight, it is at least his obsession for the next two hours of film time. He, gingerly, aflutter in a stereotypically feminine way, approaches. She is blase, rock hard. He offers her a ride. In the back of his chauffered limousine, they sit in opposite corners. While he is looking out the window, inch by inch, his hand moves toward hers. With contact, she looks even more bored, even more blase. By the time he gets her to her school, her head is thrown back, and his hand is in her lap.
The actress playing the teenager looks, in various shots, to be anywhere from a naive and buglike fifteen to a jaded twenty three. Since much of the rest of hte movie is devoted to full body nudity and graphic scenes of sexual intercourse, her youth, both as an actress and as a character, was an issue when the film was first released. I didn't see it for that reason. I was convinced it was exploitation of men's fantasies of making it with a child.
But the film didn't feel that way to me at all. To me, it seemed to capture really well the un self conscious power and ammoral curiosity a teenage girl experiencing her sexuality for the first time can experience. I was grateful for that. I've never seen anything else like it on film. It's so rare that a woman is allowed to f*** and not fall in love, to retain a curious, animal look even during orgasm.
The sex scenes talked to me. They communicated as much as the scant dialogue the personalites, desires, strengths, weaknesses, of the characters.
This would have been a very different movie -- a much shorter and grimmer one -- had the man, the "Lover" of the title, been anything other than what he was. He was not a rapacious, exploitative beast. He was, rather, a romantic. Confused, worshipful, easily hurt. Chinese in a time and place when being Chinese made him less than she in some way, in spite of his relative wealth and her poverty. Vulnerable, because he was so in thrall to her, and she was merely curious about him, and hungry for physical pleasure.
Many scenes in the movie spoke to me loudly about race, power, sick family systems, money, sex. I don't want to describe them for fear of spoiling this movie for anyone else. But I'll mention -- the scene where he takes her ratty family out to dinner, their disdain for his race, his effort to not reveal that he is insulted, and how he deals with his pain once he gets her alone. His wedding. Her waiting for him; his never coming. Her resonse to the pianist playing Chopin on the ocean liner.
"The Lover" -- thumbs up.
