Liebesleben

I understand I'm not the only one who reacted to the heroine's inexplicable behavior not with an intrigued hope of learning more in the course of the movie, but with a disgruntled assumption that no explanation was forthcoming. At least no more than in, say, LAST TANGO IN Paris, which this movie somewhat resembles-- woman secretly meeting older and uncommunicative man from time to time to cheat on her more suitable partner. However, I kept watching because although I haven't read the novel, it's by a respected writer; and the lead actress has a good reputation. Not because there was any character that the audience could sympathize with. Eventually some exposition of the characters' background was produced, basically in the form of sheer monologue rather than being cinematically integrated, but the exposition came too late. A movie that engaged more audience sympathy might have led people to say "Aha, now I understand and I must see this again from the beginning." But this isn't a movie that engages the audience in that way (maybe it engages you by the photography, if that's something you to go the movies for) and those who do watch it till the end may not be eager to do so again. So it's sort of like hearing a joke and then, just before the punch line, being told "Oh, I should have mentioned that the guy was hunting a bear in the forest."

Former actor and first-time director Maria Schrader has conquered a challenging task in bringing the best-selling novel of Israeli writer Zeruya Shalev successfully to the screen. The frequently occurring question of how to transfer the inner and intimate thoughts of a protagonist into actions and moving images, Maria Schrader has answered with an outstanding portion of self-confidence and craftsmanship. A strong cast altogether, lead by Israelian theatre actress Netta Garti and Rade Sherbedgia as the leads is guided by a safe hand of the directrice and her German cameraman Benedict Neuenfels, who manages to paint a fine contrast of the barren landscapes of Israel against the nicely observed interiours of contemporary Jewish living in the city. It is their well thought-out concept that keeps the atmosphere and rhythm of the movie constantly fresh and moving yet at the same time takes the right pauses to capture even the closest and most emotional moments that the actors portray in their fine performances. The thought-provoking conflict of the heroine is well told and with a surprising twist brings to light the underlying tension of a family, that has tried to ignore its own dealings of the past for far too long. The strong collaboration between novel-writer and director seems to be ever immanent and it is not exaggerated to say that the film as a whole is really making its point in the truth of the novels soul. It is worth mentioning that it is quite an achievement by first-timer Maria Schrader and her collaborators, that this German-Israelian co-production works on many levels and comes to full fruition. Certainly the director is someone to be watched for a promising cinematic future.

This movie is certainly not worth watching. A pointless story about sex (and not love as the title suggests) is compounded by flat characters that populate a beautifully shot picture. While the scenery is very nice, the lack of skillful narration and superficial acting leave the movie goer empty. The storyline also sometimes gets lost so that I had the urge to leave the movie theater at times and wished the movie would end soon. The story tells of a married woman who falls for an old man because he is attractive. However, this attraction seems to be merely physical. Why would a woman give up her life for the mere thrill of sex? The movie shows that all the characters have some kind of psychological problem (be it the woman's obsession or the other characters' emotionless behavior). Even when the main character's father cries, this show of emotion seems shallow and fails to convince the viewer. In the end, this is a movie that aims to make the viewer think but fails because it makes one feel hopelessly lost in pointless dribble.