CANNES REVIEW – LOVE – Gaspar Noé first cut his teeth directing one of those Muppet movies in the mid-nineties – The Muppet’s Treasure Island I think – but has since made his name as an arch-provocateur, with a full stock of schlock shock, so when he turned up on the Croisette with a film called Love, boasting 3D jizzing members and unsimulated full-on hardcore sex, you can bet I was in the front row, but was it any good?
Which isn’t to say it’s awful. Just not great.
Electra (Aomi Muyock) and Murphy (Karl Glusman) are irritatingly attractive lovers, who have handily demonstrative sex, almost as if they know they’re being filmed from above. They’re particularly keen on fulfilling Gaspar Noé’s sexual fantasies, especially the one about a threesome with the conveniently blonde neighbor Omi (Klara Kristin). They grunt, hump and sigh, and then talk so much donkey shit about art, film, love etc, that almost seems to have been written down for them. And it goes on. Noé himself turns up to screw his female lead on screen. Imagine a Hitchcock cameo, but with the emphasis on the second syllable.
It’s indulgent and silly, and it gets a bit boring. It isn’t as if these two have that much imagination in the bedroom and Murphy’s misogynistic bullshit tires fast and leaves us with no one really to root for. Plus sexy Electra has to have some tragic angle because, you know, girls can’t actually just enjoy sex (!?) which leaves us with the feeling that Love isn’t radical, but kinda conservative. It’s not so much the Emperor’s got no clothes, as the Emperor is wearing a skin toned body stocking. Which, if you think about it, is creepier.
Love is (ahem) coming soon.