A Pele de Vênus

"Venus in Fur" is one mesmerizing film, the latest by controversial director Roman Polanski. This is despite having only one setting -- an old Parisian theater on one stormy night. Furthermore, it has only a cast of two -- Emmanuelle Seigner and Mathieu Amalric. There is something so vital about their one hour and a half long conversation that that is simply compelling.

Amalric plays Thomas, a stage director conducting an audition for lead actress for his play entitled "Venus in Fur." Seigner plays Vanda, an down-on-her-luck actress who arrived very late for the auditions. Vanda convinces Thomas to still give her a chance to audition. Thomas will soon discover that he will get more than what he bargained for.

Amalric and Seigner worked so well together with an electric chemistry that transcends language barriers and subtitles. I would have imagined a younger actress to play Vanda, but I must admit that the 48-year old Seigner still manages to be as sexy and seductive as Vanda should be. Amalric's character was enthralled, and so will you. Of course, director Polanski will not make his wife look bad.

This film is based on a play by David Ives, and this was obvious in the way the dialog of the characters went. It was fascinating, and at times confusing, how their conversations moved from within the play's script into reality seamlessly. For people who love the theater, this film that will grab them from the get go all the way to its unpredictable climax.

I loved this movie. It opens with the "adapter" telling his fiancée on the phone that "all the candidats are pretentious who speak like : "oh, it's like, you know, just awesome, real f** stylish or something (oh c'est genre grave stylé quoi...)" The heroine witnesses the scene by the cracked door and decides at that moment -at least that's what I thought- to teach him a lesson. He who believes in his superiority will soon understand that it's not the case. This is a movie about words, "intellos", gender issues, artistic creation and interpretation, masochisme and so on...

Venus in Fur, adapted from a play that couldn't be more made for a play originally than if it was just actors reading from a script (no wait, they do that here, don't they) is, frankly, good but minor Polanski. It's never less than entertaining, and it has engaging performances by the director'ss surrogate Matthieu Almaric (seriously, doesn't he look like him more than a bit?) and his wife, who is so incredibly spot-on at being seductive and crazy and smart as a whip and ahead of the game, Emmanuelle Seigner.

It also has an ending that is as unforgettably deranged as its brother movie ending from the director, The Tenant. And why is it minor? For me, it just felt kind of a shallow experience, not very deep, and the back and forth motions as to who is the Dom and who is the Sub (in sex but also power terms) moment to moment gets frustrating at times. And, yes, the cinematography of course is intense and this filmmaker is nothing if not a master of having a couple of people in a room and making it cinematic for an hour and a half and change. Perhaps it just reminds one of other, greater Polanski work a little too much.

However, certainly for fans of high heels and silk stockings it's really something!

"She taught me the most valuable thing in the world." Thomas (Matthew Amalric)

"And what did she teach you?" Vanda (Emmanuelle Seigner)

" That nothing is more sensual than pain. That nothing is more exciting than degradation." Thomas

Roman Polanski's Venus in Fur, adapted from Leopold Van Sacher-Masoch's novel, Venus in Furs, is a two hander with a first-time stage director and adapter, Thomas (Polanski), and an actress (Seigner, Polanski's wife) trying out for a part in his play at an old Parisian theater. It's as raw a film as it is delicate.

He's at the end of a long audition day with women who don't fit the part, and she straggles in when he's ready to go, in no mood for her tardiness or her lack of sophistication, much less her bondage outfit with dog collar. This time pain hardly seems sensual, until Vanda pulls out all the personality stops by eventually auditioning him.

As in the play of life itself, nothing is as it seems; as in Polanski's other worlds, identity is a matter of power. She challenges him about his misconception of her talent (she's made for the part—even has the character's name) and proceeds to take a dominant role in acting and interpreting. In other words, the tables turn while woman takes the traditionally male aggressive role and he becomes her slave and even takes her part. When she ties him to a gigantic phallic cactus, the absurdity is painless, a testimony to imaginative stagecraft and pleasant Freud.

Polanski, never afraid to deal with strong women in his films (Tess and Carnage come to mind immediately), as well as the real-life tragedy of his wife's murder, places Vanda prominently in each of her frames; his surrogate, Thomas, even looks like Polanski's younger self. Thus, the film becomes a convoluted feminist tome while it also comments on the relationship between actors and their directors. Whatever it all may mean about Roman Polanski's personal relationships with women, it is a witty 96 minutes of repartee and gamesmanship, where roles are fluid, both with characters and actors.

The pain of his self revelations, which she forces him to see, turns out to be a pleasure for a playwright directing for the first time and facing an actress gifted and formidable. Both actors, by the way, are exemplary.

"It's 'a little love' you suggest? No, it's the power that interests you." Thomas

Polansky has turned a shoestring-budget production shot in a single location with just 2 second-rate actors (one of whom is the director's wife) and a skeleton crew into a timeless masterpiece.

Lars von Trier should watch this and learn how a theatrical drama shot on a small stage with nothing more than stage lights and a bit of fog can become a feast for the eyes. Before I watched this film I liked von Trier more than Polansky. Not any more. I just watched it a second time and am still mentally savoring the delicacy and artistry in every single shot, the painterly lighting, the fascinating expressions that Polansky got out of his missus, and the beautiful exterior tracking shots at the beginning and end of the film.

The mystery of who exactly Wanda is keeps getting bigger until it reaches deific proportions, but not in the post-Victorian, anemic sense of the word. In Latin, Venus and venerari (worship) come from the same root, which means sexual lust as well as religious worship. And that's exactly what Bacchanalia are - heavenly and earthly at the same time. See the movie and you'll understand.

Needless to say, as Wanda's character shines, Thomas keeps getting tinier. In fact he's little more than a prop for Wanda in the whole movie, which is of course the idea, but it could have been done better. I suppose if Mathieu Amalric is as far as your budget goes, his effort in this movie is still more than your money's worth.

Finally, I thank and congratulate Polansky for conjuring this little marvel at such an unexpected point of his career and during such a seemingly endless doldrums for movies in general. I suspect that Mrs. Seigner has more to do with this little alchemist's jewel than just acting in it and that Thomas has more than a little Roman in him. If indeed Roman's Venus is the muse behind it all, then maybe it's time for Mrs. Polansky to get off her ass and start directing.