When I borrowed this Criterion DVD from my local library, I could only recall seeing two previous Luis Buñuel films: "An Andalusian Dog" (1929), de rigueur for art students, and "Belle de Jour" (1967), starring Catherine Deneuve - both distant memories by this time. So I could only dimly guess how Mr. Eyeball Slicer would approach the subject of erotic obsession in "That Obscure Object of Desire". My hope was for something artistic and kinky along the lines of "Realm of the Senses" or "The Story of O". Not even close.

"La Femme et Le Pantin" was Pierre Louys' 1898 novel about a rich playboy led to ruin by a young beauty in Seville (the city of Carmen). Apparently filmmakers must've identified with the old femme fatale story, because no less than seven adaptations have been made, the most high-profile ones being "The Devil Is A Woman" (1935) with Marlene Dietrich, and "A Woman Like Satan" (1958) with Brigitte Bardot.

"Cet Obscur Objet Du Désir" (1977), Buñuel's last film, written by Jean-Claude Carrière, is an updated version of Louys' story that incorporates Buñuel's pet peeves: the Church and the bourgeoisie, both of which he held in contempt, and the sexual neuroses and hypocrisies that inevitably occur in repressed societies.

The most famous peculiarity of this film is the casting of two actresses in the role of Conchita (Carole Bouquet and Angela Molina). Carrière's explanation (in the DVD's interview) is that the two-actress concept was one of many ideas tossed around & set aside until Buñuel realized that "it just wasn't working" with one actress. Carrière was diplomatically vague on the details, but I've read that Maria Schneider was that actress, who either quit or was fired. The alternations between Bouquet & Molina do seem calculated for symbolic import, to represent different facets of Conchita's personality. The fact that both women are absolutely delectable doesn't hurt the film one bit. Bouquet has the cool, French aristocratic look; Molina is the hot-blooded Andalusian dancer.

Buñuel's adaptation is also distinctive in its inclusion of terrorism. The random attacks have a weirdly amateurish feel, as if fringe groups like the RAIJ (Revolutionary Army of the Infant Jesus) were vying for public attention. The people react as if desensitized by regular exposure to terror in daily life and in the news: a practical adaptation, not necessarily a healthy one. The constant jeopardy seems to underline both the absurdity and urgency of Mathieu's pursuit of love - to put it bluntly, terror makes reality surreal.

As our story begins:

Mathieu (Fernando Rey), a wealthy, graying French widower, hurries to leave Seville after ordering his valet (André Weber) to destroy evidence of a brutal fight inside his house. From the debris, there's little doubt Mathieu has beaten up a woman, and he shows no remorse. As his train departs for Paris, the bruised Conchita appears on the platform, demanding that he not desert her. In response, Mathieu calmly dumps a bucket of water on her head and returns to his seat. His fellow passengers, a mother and young daughter, a judge, and a dwarf psychologist (Piéral), expect an explanation for this bizarre behavior, so Mathieu tells his story, which unfolds in flashbacks.

Mathieu first meets 18 yr. old Conchita at a friend's house in Paris, where she's the new chambermaid. He's instantly smitten with her supermodel looks and puts the moves on her at the first opportunity. Her confession that she's still a virgin gets him hot. But she rebuffs his advances - and the next day he finds she has quit and vanished. Though he barely knows the girl, he tracks her down to the apartment that she shares with her mother, a poor devout widow.

This is just the first of many red flags that will be obvious to anyone experienced with women. That Mathieu can't take "no" for an answer and find someone else indicates the irrational roots of his desire (mid-life crisis, perhaps?). That Conchita and her mother welcome this stalker and gladly accept his gifts and cash is equally disturbing. You'd think Mathieu's dad would've warned him about women like this, or he would've found out the hard way long before now.

Conchita's teasing and foreplay suggest that Mathieu has a chance after all. But her mercurial side emerges when she objects to his attempt to "buy her like a piece of furniture" and declares she never wants to see him again. (What, never?) Inevitably they reunite with smiles, all is forgiven, and they play variations of the same game: He offers his generosity, which she gratefully accepts. She claims to love him, but at the last second refuses sex, uttering noble excuses like, "If I gave in, you wouldn't love me anymore." He gets fed up with her leading him on. She resents his control-trip, says he just doesn't understand her, and provokes another "final" separation. The cycle begins anew. In no time it's painfully obvious who's running the show.

What may disappoint viewers is that none of the characters are particularly sympathetic. Having suffered my own (less costly) misfortunes with a virginal Conchita-type long ago, I can empathize with Mathieu up to a point. But I find it appalling that he rationalizes beating her, saying, "You can see, she had it coming to her." Mathieu's valet isn't exactly a font of wisdom, either; when consulted for his opinion of females, he comes up with a pithy epigram like, "When you go with a woman, bring a big stick."

Even the psychologist doesn't hold Mathieu accountable. Conchita never asked for gifts, never agreed to any quid pro quo deal. Mathieu is just a rich old fool with no one to blame but himself. In my opinion, had Buñuel made him a young Casanova getting his comeuppance, this noir comedy would be easier to enjoy.

One could give Conchita the benefit of a doubt, but her declarations of love and independence must be weighed against her actions, which are those of a treacherous, manipulative sadist. Buñuel shows vividly how a man desires most what he cannot possess, but did that unattainable beauty have to be so evil, too? Not giving us anyone to root for may be "uncompromising" to artiste-worshippers, but to the rest of us, it comes off as mean-spirited. As if real life weren't hard enough already.

I'm going out on a limb by not recommending this highly acclaimed art film, but I admit my visceral dislike is based on first-hand experience. I suppose one occasion this film might be good for is if your buddy suffers an acrimonious breakup. When he sees Mathieu, you can say brightly, "Count your blessings, pal! At least you're not HIM!"


Recommended:
No

Viewing Format: DVD
Suitability For Children: Not suitable for Children of any age