Bitter Moon. - movie reviews

National Review, June 27, 1994 by John Simon

On One might pass over Bitter Moon in silence, were it not made by the formerly brilliant Roman Polanski, and beginning to find an undeserved audience. Based on Lunes de fiel, by the French novelist Pascal Bruckner, it may have been of some interest before Polanski got through with it. It is now soft-core pornography devoid of genuine eroticism, affecting performances, or even incisive direction.

In the past, Mr. Polanski and his scenarist Gerard Brach (sometimes joined, as here, by John Brownjohn) have been able to whip up interest. Here they have contrived a confused and confusing story of sadomasochist sex, in which the novelist hero, Oscar, now wheelchair-bound, relates both a novel he has written and his stormy marriage to the much younger Mimi - two stories that manage only to detract from each other. The setting is an ocean crossing, where Oscar keeps luring Nigel, a young English fellow passenger, to come listen to him in his cabin, away from Fiona, Nigel's bride, who does not take kindly to hubby's absences, or his interest in Mimi, Oscar's sexy wife, around whom most of the action revolves.

Mimi is played by Emmanuelle Seigner, the granddaughter of the great Louis Seigner, but talent can skip two generations as easily as one. Her basically pretty face is made unappealing by what I can describe only as a look of stupidity. Intelligence, luckily, is not required in an actor, but Mile Seigner, who may be bright as a button, has the misfortune of looking dumb, which acts as a powerful anaphrodisiac, and sabotages the film.

Peter Coyote, a San Francisco actor whom I've usually found wanting, and who now seems to be making a career of playing Americans in European movies (the last stop before the knacker's yard), portrays a successful novelist as a man who could at best write captions for horror comics. Far more interesting is the young British couple, effectively enacted by Hugh Grant and Kristin Scott-Thomas, but the film is only secondarily about them, which is a pity. Tonino delli Colli, the Italian cinematographer, works his usual wonders, but they are wasted on a mean-spirited little movie that comes across as a clean dirty joke, the worst kind of joke there is.