8 ½ Mulheres

Actually, Greenaway has nearly always been laughing. It's just that many people fail to notice that. "8 1/2 Women", however, is different in that even the people who hate it (of which there will be plenty; it's Greenaway) will have no doubts that it is a comedy, and Greenaway's lightest-toned film yet.

It is a playful tribute to Fellini and Godard, and it features - prominently - understanding, affection and warmth, none of which are emotions one would have easily associated with Greenaway's previous work. (In an after-screening interview, he commented that age makes one want to look more at the better side of things.) Because this is still very much a Peter Greenaway film, the ways in which emotions such as filial love are going to be explored are going to be very quirky indeed; but to interpret the film's "taboo" scene as intended to shock is a disservice to the film, the director's intentions (and his ability to *truly* shock when he wants to - check "The Baby of Macon") and your own enjoyment.

"8 1/2 Women" is full of odd little moments (and one SPECTACULARLY odd image which I won't spoil much, except to mention that it involves a pig, a Japanese Noh performer and a stunning Swiss villa) and offbeat humour; and it is about male bonding and male delusions about women. I can see how many people have taken the facile route of viewing it as misogynistic; these people have obviously not seen the same film as I have, which is all about control from behind the scenes, strategy, and the presentation of male supremacy for what it is - a fallacy.

"8 1/2 Women" was badly received at Cannes, got a tremendous backlash against it and died a death commercially. All of which is very unfair. If you like eccentric humour, give this film a chance. It's a little Wonderland of sorts and, in its own peculiar way, far more heartwarming than the average plastic Hollywood tear-jerker.

Fans of Peter Greenaway will not be disappointed. This film seems to be following an on-going trend of a creating more subtle approach to subjects of sexualities. If Greenaway is maturing, it's by leaving even more unsaid about the various subjects he chooses for study. This may result in works which are even more inaccessible than previous works like "The Cook..." and "Prospero's Books". Patience is the key with Greenaway, and this film certainly demands it.

I went to see it because I am fascinated with Japanese culture. Furthermore, I admire mr. Greenaway for the typical British way in which he exposes hypocrisy, yet in a very tasteful manner, and combines this with baroque visuals. I was warned however that it had nothing resembling a coherent story. It might even be boring.

Call me a twisted European, but I actually like "8.5 women", more than "Eyes wide shut"! The characters are indeed to unnatural to empathize with, and the movie will certainly stimulate your mind more than it will entertain you.....or arouse you sexually. The characters find themselves in a loosely connected stream of little scenes. Rather than making normal conversation, everyone seems to say what they think in this stream of sub-consciousness.

Mr. Greenaway plays with all aspects of sex and connects these, often in a disturbing manner, with death, religion, procreation and age and gender roles. He jumps across the cultures and taboos of this globe. Of course you might be offended by the candid way in which these ideas are treated. However, explicit scenes aren't shown. It doesn't need this effect to create a strange but compelling movie about our confused sexual morals on the threshold of a new millennium.

Despite being hissed at Cannes this film is still well worth seeing. I purchased the DVD and the more I watch it the better I like it. For a start, as with all Greenaway's work since The Falls, the photography is ravishing. I don't think anyone makes films which look better.

What few have picked up on is that (as well as an attempt to pick up Fellini's 8 1/2-ball and run with it), this is almost a remake of "A Zed and Two Noughts". Both films study bizarre responses to bereavement. both films play on doubling, in this case a father and son rather than two brothers. Both films touch on bestiality (with animals called Hortense!), gynecology, sex with amputees, a menagerie (in this case of women rather than animals), prostitution, uses of light, storytelling, and the colours black and white.

Where that film referenced painting, this references performance in many guises - cinema, kabuki, cross-dressing, opera, television, prostitution, as well as painting.

Contrary to at least one other user comment, there is no sexual intercourse shown in the film, although there is a quantity of nudity. It's very odd, if perhaps unsurprising, that this film has been sold as a sexy movie. SexIST? Well, confusing an ironic depiction of men's sexual fantasies with a reduction of women to the level of fantasy is 'politically correct' laziness at best. And as with most of Greenaway's films, the women are the winners in the end.

One reason this is harder work than the earlier film is the lack of Michael Nyman's ravishing music. I'm not sure why Greenaway stopped working with Nyman; possibly he felt he was stuck in a rut - perhaps he was nettled by charges that any old footage looked like Greenaway if you played Nyman's music behind it. Either way, he's yet to arrive at a truly satisfactory alternative. Here we have "Slow Boat to China" sung a capella by the two leads, rather after the manner of Morecambe and Wise. It's quite funny, but it's not the marriage of sound and image of earlier films.

The extent to which Philip Emmenthal represents Greenaway himself is perhaps worth considering. A character makes reference to Fellini having Mastroianni make love to all the women Fellini couldn't, and asks whether all directors make films to fulfil their own sexual fantasies. Emmenthal is notably the same age as Greenaway.

He may not be sweeping the art-house scene before him these days (in fact there's not much of an art-house scene left these days), but in the end, even below-par Greenaway is better than 99% of directors can even aspire to.

Most disappointing -- Greenaway's slide continues on from the flagrantly banal "Pillow Book", which looked like a pornographic Sprint commercial and had about as much intellectual impact. The thin visual style of "Women" harkened back to "Drowning by Numbers", one of my personal favorites, but the interchangeable, glibly apathetic characters lacked the depth necessary to hold it up. As usual, some interesting discussion of the body and its trappings, but sadly, prematurely self-referential and dull on the whole. Note that Vivian Wu manages to turn in yet another openly wretched performance, this time while fully clothed; Toni Collette provides minor temporary relief with her hilarious accent.