Cérémonie d'amour is a film that drapes itself in the trappings of Parisian eroticism but ultimately feels more like an academic exercise than a sensual journey. Walerian Borowczyk crafts an atmosphere that is at once chilly and ornate, with the city's streets, train stations, and shadowy boudoirs rendered in a way that is visually striking yet emotionally distant. The cinematography is meticulous, often framing the characters through glass, archways, or behind barriers, as if inviting the viewer to observe but never truly participate. This approach creates an air of voyeurism, but the effect is more alienating than tantalizing, especially as the film's most provocative moments are deliberately obscured or relegated to narration rather than action.
The performances are a mixed bag. Marina Pierro, as Miriam, commands the screen with her enigmatic presence, her every gesture and glance hinting at a deeper turmoil beneath her poised exterior. She brings a certain gravity to the role, particularly in scenes where her character's motivations are shrouded in ambiguity. Mathieu Carrière, as Hugo, is less compelling; his portrayal of a man spiraling into obsession feels flat, lacking the intensity needed to make his descent believable. Their chemistry is often muted, and the dialogue, while occasionally sharp, tends to drift into the abstract, further distancing the audience from the characters' inner lives.
The film's pacing is glacial, and the narrative, such as it is, frequently stalls in favor of long, static shots and literary narration. Borowczyk seems more interested in constructing a ritualistic mood than in telling a coherent story, and while this might intrigue some viewers, it is likely to frustrate others. The sense of ceremony is palpable, but the emotional stakes remain stubbornly low, and the promised eroticism is more suggested than shown, often hidden behind frosted glass or left to the imagination.
