La Vénus à la fourrure

There is a lot in the book that is never said or explored. Perhaps the repressed nature of the time and place, of the characters, of the situation is what makes it such compelling material. The play, and the film, bring out all that can be said, and more. The blurring between the modern day actress auditioning for the play as the director/writer reads the male part and the actual play based on the book is done exquisitely. Seigner is an excellent Jackal and Hyde; she basically plays three different women, and a fourth hidden one that comes out in the end. Amalric is a superb choice for this role with his mousy, intellectual temperament a perfect complement to Seigner's looks and physique. Both actors deliver a mesmerizing performance.

What was most surprising for me is how much we laughed during the film. It was really hilarious, and the whole theater laughed throughout the film. The contrast between the modern day woman and the character in the book/play, the helplessness of the director against the force of the exquisitely lower class actress, the phone conversations with his "fiancée," and the list goes on... Of course, the film is not without its serious moments. In fact, I'd say it is the see-saw nature of the whole thing that really captivates, where one moment you are laughing at the name of the fiancée's dog, and the next you witness the director reading lines on his knees asking to be enslaved unconditionally and the next the actress and the director are having a yelling match about the sexist nature of the book/play.

Recommended for those who are not afraid of the intellectual analysis of art combined with the absurd and ridiculous juxtaposition of the modern and the outdated, the philistine and the intellectual, male and female.

Since I had not been able to fully appreciate the recent Polanski works, this movie has been for me a big surprise. I especially disliked "Carnage" because I found it predictable, and therefore boring – and I know very well I was quite alone in my opinion, but still. For this reason, I was biased towards another movie from the same director featuring just a couple of characters secluded in an interior. But, eventually, I found "Venus" surprising and exciting (and please don't misunderstand: excitement entirely came out of surprise).

The script, apparently simple, is a jewel with many shining facets, a brilliant movie translation of a witty stageplay inspired by a meaningful and modern book. It is like a very complex choreography, a delicate and fragile thing, very easy to spoil unless the execution is perfect. But the great work of the director and of the actors have produced a real masterpiece that maintains a high level of tension and interest throughout his whole running time.

Thanks to the brilliant connections between literature, stage and reality, and thanks to the many things that remain unclear about the character's real identities and motivations, this movie sounds much more like a question than like a an answer: some kind of Rorschach spot to test the opinion of the audience about the relationships between a man and a woman, between the lover and the beloved one. Go see it with an open mind, and you won't be disappointed: even in a worst case scenario you will find an interesting piece of conversation, so anyhow your time will be well spent.

I loved this movie. It opens with the "adapter" telling his fiancée on the phone that "all the candidats are pretentious who speak like : "oh, it's like, you know, just awesome, real f** stylish or something (oh c'est genre grave stylé quoi...)" The heroine witnesses the scene by the cracked door and decides at that moment -at least that's what I thought- to teach him a lesson. He who believes in his superiority will soon understand that it's not the case. This is a movie about words, "intellos", gender issues, artistic creation and interpretation, masochisme and so on...

"Venus in Fur" is one mesmerizing film, the latest by controversial director Roman Polanski. This is despite having only one setting -- an old Parisian theater on one stormy night. Furthermore, it has only a cast of two -- Emmanuelle Seigner and Mathieu Amalric. There is something so vital about their one hour and a half long conversation that that is simply compelling.

Amalric plays Thomas, a stage director conducting an audition for lead actress for his play entitled "Venus in Fur." Seigner plays Vanda, an down-on-her-luck actress who arrived very late for the auditions. Vanda convinces Thomas to still give her a chance to audition. Thomas will soon discover that he will get more than what he bargained for.

Amalric and Seigner worked so well together with an electric chemistry that transcends language barriers and subtitles. I would have imagined a younger actress to play Vanda, but I must admit that the 48-year old Seigner still manages to be as sexy and seductive as Vanda should be. Amalric's character was enthralled, and so will you. Of course, director Polanski will not make his wife look bad.

This film is based on a play by David Ives, and this was obvious in the way the dialog of the characters went. It was fascinating, and at times confusing, how their conversations moved from within the play's script into reality seamlessly. For people who love the theater, this film that will grab them from the get go all the way to its unpredictable climax.

"She taught me the most valuable thing in the world." Thomas (Matthew Amalric)

"And what did she teach you?" Vanda (Emmanuelle Seigner)

" That nothing is more sensual than pain. That nothing is more exciting than degradation." Thomas

Roman Polanski's Venus in Fur, adapted from Leopold Van Sacher-Masoch's novel, Venus in Furs, is a two hander with a first-time stage director and adapter, Thomas (Polanski), and an actress (Seigner, Polanski's wife) trying out for a part in his play at an old Parisian theater. It's as raw a film as it is delicate.

He's at the end of a long audition day with women who don't fit the part, and she straggles in when he's ready to go, in no mood for her tardiness or her lack of sophistication, much less her bondage outfit with dog collar. This time pain hardly seems sensual, until Vanda pulls out all the personality stops by eventually auditioning him.

As in the play of life itself, nothing is as it seems; as in Polanski's other worlds, identity is a matter of power. She challenges him about his misconception of her talent (she's made for the part—even has the character's name) and proceeds to take a dominant role in acting and interpreting. In other words, the tables turn while woman takes the traditionally male aggressive role and he becomes her slave and even takes her part. When she ties him to a gigantic phallic cactus, the absurdity is painless, a testimony to imaginative stagecraft and pleasant Freud.

Polanski, never afraid to deal with strong women in his films (Tess and Carnage come to mind immediately), as well as the real-life tragedy of his wife's murder, places Vanda prominently in each of her frames; his surrogate, Thomas, even looks like Polanski's younger self. Thus, the film becomes a convoluted feminist tome while it also comments on the relationship between actors and their directors. Whatever it all may mean about Roman Polanski's personal relationships with women, it is a witty 96 minutes of repartee and gamesmanship, where roles are fluid, both with characters and actors.

The pain of his self revelations, which she forces him to see, turns out to be a pleasure for a playwright directing for the first time and facing an actress gifted and formidable. Both actors, by the way, are exemplary.

"It's 'a little love' you suggest? No, it's the power that interests you." Thomas