Paris, France

"Paris,France" is a great film...DARING,SHOCKING and crafted with great wit, I was enthralled by the story and it's methods of provoking gasps of surprised laughter...It is a comedy, hard to believe with it's ill designed poster. Unfortunately, the distributers just saw the rating and heard about the sex and...well, they designed the box for the Blockbuster erotic thriller set in mind. This film will most likely never reach the audience it deserves. It's a movie about creative people who are easily obsessed with ideas,memories and the passion they put forth through their own art. The main charactor is a poetess, whose own obssession is the memory of Paris, and the lover she had there. The prospect of a new lover opens up doors for her, and she soon finds herself trying to relive her experiences with a fellow writer who can barely keep up.

The poetess, as played by Leslie Hope is timid one moment, then surprisingly dominant and forceful the next. These changes happen so frequently we begin to worry about her sanity. Fortunately, these sudden moodswings often ignite powerful setpieces laced with very wise and biting humor.

A low budget film that questions morality, our views on sex and how insane it all can seem. Low budget but filmed very well, and packed with riviting performances by all the leads. I was suprised to find that the director mainly works in television. Hopefully, his next film project will be handled and distributed with more care than this one.

Highly Recomended!!!

10 out of 10

A movie that belongs with 'The Lover' in the too short list of good erotic films, the real, present-day scenes are better than the fantasy scenes. It has lots of interesting dialogue too, for those paying attention to the dialogue: 'Sometimes, I can't tell the difference between f**king and fighting' said by one male star to another, is a line I've never forgotten. Makes for interesting discussions with men, once we're in the mood for discussing.

I found this movie fascinating. The physical and verbal interaction between a complex young woman writer and four hetero-, homo-, or bisexual men provides the framework of a hyperfiction about writing and publishing. Preoccupied with the erotic, the writers seem to be latter-day versions of Anais Nin or Henry Miller, and the movie takes us through black-and-white flashbacks into the woman's version of a fantasy "Paris" where she has a sadistic relationship with a man who is a wretchedly bad poet/pop-lyricist but an animalistic never-to-be surpassed lover. The acting in the "real" world of muted dusty color is superb; though the four principals engage in frank sexuality, this is by no means a dumb sexploitation movie. Sexual activity, whether enacted or spoken about, is a way of exploring characters of great complexity. This is intellectual erotica of the kind that rewards repeated viewing.

Very much an acquired taste, Paris,France has so much to offer the literate viewer. The film would be best enjoyed not by movie buffs but by critical theory students and their professors. They could even dedicate a course to it alongside seminars on commodity fetishism and Madonna. It challenges many assumptions about what is acceptable on film and was quite subversive in its time for showing graphic scenes of homosexual and heterosexual sex. The title itself seems like a self-conscious dig at Paris,Texas, as if to draw attention to its pretentiousness as art-house fare. Although the film is pretentious in many ways, it has a devilish charm and an offbeat, edgy atmosphere that makes it stand out from the crowd.

The acting out of the private fantasies, always a titillating idea, mainly because of the inherent risk involved, is the central theme here. Some openly sexual scenes and some even more open sex talks are the highlight of the movie. Acting is great. It gets too artful and cerebral (read loses reality) by the end.