The Duke of Burgundy

"The Duke Of Burgundy" was a fictional pub in the classic Ealing comedy Passport To Pimlico (1949). It also happens to be the name of a certain species of butterfly found only in England. Far from a film about a friendly neighbourhood pub, or an educational chat with David Attenborough, the 2014 incarnation of The Duke Of Burgundy is encased within a potent atmosphere of unease, sexual tension, twisted eroticism and dark humour. Much like viewing a case of mounted butterflies, we watch the action unfold. Visuals are more important than words. This is a truly cinematic experience that demands its audience closely observe everything before its eyes. The butterfly metaphor may be overused - having been exploited in The Collector (1965) and in The Smiths lyric "You can pin and mount me like a butterfly" - however, it is revisited to great effect in this film.

The film observes the daily routine of Cynthia (Sidse Babett Knudsen) and Evelyn (Chiara D'Anna). Much like insects pinned down and encased under glass, we observe them trapped in a provocative routine that starts with punishment and pleasure and ends with a crumbling emotional facade. As Cynthia yearns for a more conventional relationship, Evelyn's obsession with erotic role-playing threatens to push the two apart.

The Duke of Burgundy is a unique voyeuristic experience courtesy of Peter Strickland, the award winning writer and director of Berberian Sound Studio and Katalin Varga. Much like Berberian Sound Studio, he returns us to the European cult movies of the 1970's. It's refreshing to note that while many recent directors seem to be emulating the crowd-pleasing visuals of The Wachowskis, Lynch, Tarantino or Snyder, Strickland is enthralled with Dario Argento, Lucio Fulci, Jess Franco and Sergio Martino - with a pinch of Bergman. To a certain degree, Strickland's themes and visuals may also owe a debt to lesser known Euro-cult gems like Baby Yaga and Daughters of Darkness.

Anyone who's familiar with The Duke of Burgundy's cinematic lineage knows how essential a good soundtrack is. Many of the original giallo and Euro-sleaze films where soundtracked by the likes of Ennio Morricone, Bruno Nicolai and Goblin. The Duke of Burgundy benefits greatly from a soundtrack by Cat's Eyes, an alternative pop duo featuring vocalist Faris Badwan - of English indie rock band The Horrors - and Italian-Canadian soprano, composer and multi-instrumentalist Rachel Zeffira (sounding rather like Lynch favourite Julie Cruise). Having played their first ever gig in St. Peter's Basilica at the Vatican, during an afternoon mass "attended by seven high-ranking cardinals", the duo are the perfect choice to compliment Strickland's retro Italo-thriller imagery. The opening credit sequence is an especially good mix of sound and image recalling the era perfectly.

If the overtly commercial eroticism of Fifty Shades of Grey leaves you cold, then head down to The Duke of Burgundy and drink in its intoxicating brew of dark, atmospheric erotica.

Even I, in my 63 year-old female dotage, got the bug. What a great pair. Both the characters and the actors. The story is tight; every moment is important; and there are a lot of silent moments. A couple of lesbians, one rich and older/one cute and younger, live together, love together, and sex up a storm. For the younger one, sex is every waking moment. Even moments with no physical contact. For her the act of being a sex slave makes her deliriously happy and sexy. She always has orders for her dominant queen. She dresses her, tells her how to sit, and how long. The dom is getting a little tired of the whole deal, or is she?

A rather simple "story" or rather vignette about the tensions in a relationship - the two lovers are lesbians (Evelyn and Cynthia) and are playing out a dominance and submission scenario - but basically the problems the couple faces are the same as with most relationships: Boredom by routine, a little jealousy, and Cynthia is having trouble with Evelyn's more and more demanding whims.

What makes this film stand out for me is the all-embracing vision: Acting, costumes, set design, props, music, rhythm - everything works together perfectly to form a total work of art. Usually such a clear and uncompromising concept is restricted to short films; here it's drawn out to 100 lush minutes. I felt positively reminded of Peter Greenaway! There are also some fun visual jokes or references like the mannequins in the audience but they don't take away from the focus.

Now, while that's some praise, there's also drawbacks that come with this single-mindedness: The plot is just a "plot", coming from and leading to nowhere; we never learn much about the characters; the whole thing begins to feel drawn-out. Basically you could have told the thing in 30 minutes without losing much impact. While I can wholeheartedly recommend this beautiful production, I doubt if I'll rewatch it anytime soon in its full length.

Titled after a butterfly native to Britain, this intense drama focuses on a romantic relationship between two entomologists that begins to crumble as their role playing takes an emotional strain on the woman forced to play dominant by her masochistic girlfriend. Lusciously photographed, with several shots that slowly travel up and down butterfly displays, and beginning with opening credits in the fashion of a late 1960s or early 1970s movie, 'The Duke of Burgundy' is a visually arresting experience and the detailed costumes are impressive too. The film also benefits from a lack of exposition; at first, the submissive woman appears to the dominant's maid and our preconceptions are further challenged as it is slowly revealed that the submissive one has all control in the relationship, often uncomfortably coaxing her lover into improvising speeches and punishments to help her achieve satisfaction. Interesting as all this might sound, the completely non-explicit way that their interactions are filmed takes away much of the intimacy with no nudity and precious few moments of them close together. The repetitiveness of their routines also grows tiresome, if somewhat appropriately so to reflect the dominant one's disenchantment with their affair. Certainly, there is enough of interest here to make the film worth a look, but one's mileage will probably vary.

This film offers astonishing photography: soap bubbles look like iridescent lobes, butterflies and moths are presented like stunning neorealist paintings-the pigment scales on wings, delicate antennae, infinitesimal hairs are all rendered with clarity that will elicit gasps. There is also a series of images that morph from one of the protagonists into a cloud of fluttering butterflies of variegated hues segueing into what might be the greatest montage ever edited. Super closeups of wings flash at increasing speed, leaving the viewer overwhelmed by beauty. Complimenting the superb entomological photography are sweeping shots of lush gardens and vine covered chateau walls. We're this not enough, the interiors in soft intimate lighting would earn due praise.

And praise the film has garnered with many top critics assigning The Duke of Burgundy perfect scores. Yet with the feast of visual delights the film serves a story that is as dull as a tarnished penny. The lesbian couple repeat a kind of ritualized dominant and submissive behavior scene after scene with scant variation. The encounters are separated by repetitious scenes of entomology lectures.

The only portion of this movie that breaks the wearying dreary repetition is a visit to a woman who crafts fetish devices. This breaks the monotony, but it's difficult not to laugh during an exchange. When the submissive partner is disappointed to exasperation at learning that the equipment she desires cannot be fabricated in time for her birthday, an alternative is suggested. The character flashes with delight of the substitution: "how about human toilet?" The sensual scenes are my no measure engaging or erotic. Sure, the filmmaker is presenting the subject in a manner that forbids prurient interest. But it's difficult to think of a film in which the physical expression of affection is so boring. The relationship is static until the very end when one of the women becomes overwrought for reasons that the audience is unable to divine.

The exhilarating beauty of the photography serves to point up the colorless plot.