Signs, metaphors, analogies, semiotic nausea. Raw sex is part of love, yet, films used to cut to birds necking after a kiss. ![]() Love stories are why you stick glued to a chair for a couple of hours. But what would this review be if it didn't talk about the 3D sex? Love and cinema are inseparable. And it fights for that with it's magnificent camera-work and editing. This is a good image of what this film surprisingly achieves best: intimacy. You hear music banging inside the club, yet the lovers are outside in halflight. There's a resplendent simplicity here that hypnotizes the viewer. You know their bodies and you know how to please them and above all, you know how to hurt them. Just like the sex you've had with your lovers again and again and again. The film features no highbrow intellectual conversations but instead, favors the same lines you've probably slung at your lovers. ![]() ![]() The film doesn't argue to be anything beyond a meandering stroll into the gallows melancholy. And yes, during certain scenes people got up and left. The script is laughable and the acting (often voice-over), too.
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