Last Tango in Paris
Directed by Bernardo Bertolucci
- drama
- romance
The story
A recently widowed American begins an anonymous sexual relationship with a young Parisian woman.
What it’s like
Grainy, warm-toned 35mm with a dim, sweat-heavy interior palette: a shabby Parisian flat washed in ochre and dusky reds, handheld camera that lingers close on faces and bodies, and long unbroken takes that let silences stretch. Light is mostly low and natural, filtered through shutters and tall windows, with rain-streaked grey Paris outside and a stripped-down sparseness inside. The score is Gato Barbieri's sax, sultry and mournful, set against street noise, echoing empty rooms and long stretches of breath. The vibe is raw, melancholic, and unsettling, closer to grief-soaked intimacy than seduction, suited to a late night alone with the lights low rather than company. Pacing is slow and fraught, with bursts of volatile emotion. The explicit sexual content is frequent and graphic, including full nudity and an infamous, non-consensual scene; violence is sudden and harsh, and the mood is bleak throughout. It follows a grieving man who sheds his identity through anonymous encounters and gradually loses his grip. For adult viewers who want an uncompromising, art-house study of desire, loss and self-destruction, not an easy watch.
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