The Last Mistress ***
Catherine Breillat, 2008
France
@ Guild 45th Theater

Ms. Breillat’s explorations of desire and pleasure are so far from the antiseptic world of most screen depictions as to seem far out. In truth she’s just fearless, determined to show what others keep hidden — the good, the bad, the tumescent, the fluid — so she can keep puzzling through her ideas. “The Last Mistress” isn’t as graphic as some of her other films, notably “Romance,” which features full-frontal and then some. The sex in this film is far from explicit, though it features geometric formations that may be better suited for Kama Sutra students, or at least the limber. What’s explicit here is ravenous passion and the depiction of desire as a creating, destroying force that invades the very flesh. It’s terribly French.

It’s also gloriously unpredictable, even if the ways in which Ms. Breillat frames and puts together scenes tend to be less than surprising. A stubborn individualist, she is also a generally unremarkable, even on occasion awkward stylist, though one sensitive to color. You gasp at her ideas and words, not her setups and camera moves. Set amid the rarefied realm of the French aristocracy — Louis-Philippe, the last king to rule France, sits on the throne — the film has many of the trappings of a conventional costume drama, from the rustling gowns to the glowing candelabra. Everything from the costumes to the cinematography works to advance the story. Everything, that is, except La Vellini, who, like Goya’s Maja, rocks her world by the public spectacle of her desire.

Like all the unruly women who populate Ms. Breillat’s films, La Vellini rubs hard against the grain. She’s the fly in the ointment, the stick in the eye, and it’s her howls, her spit and her fury that keep everything off kilter, disturbing the peace, its keepers and the narrative flow. Ms. Breillat reserves her most adoring close-ups for Mr. Aattou, a delicate beauty with feminine pillowy lips. (She loves her boys.) But she never denies Ms. Argento, who hurtles into her scenes, at times literally, gobbling up a lot of space. She’s playing a woman whom others deride as a creature — as if she were a beast. In truth, La Vellini is a woman of pleasure, and Ms. Breillat makes certain her cup runneth over, furiously.

See also: IMDb | Metacritic | Manohla Dargis review