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Review: The Last Mistress
On Saturday night, I ventured over to Bethesda to see Une Vieille Maitresse (The Last Mistress) at the Landmark theater. After paying 4 dollars for a bottle of water, I was primed to have a horrible time. Lucky for me, Director Catherine Breillat's portrayal of the conflict between love and passion, mind and body made even the over-priced, environmentally harmful bottle of Dasani worth it.

The film revolves around a young man, Ryno, who is engaged to, and indeed in love with a young aristocratic woman (Hermangarde) in 19th century France. His central conflict, whether to yield to an irrational passion, or commit to woman with whom he's clearly in love. Ryno's affair with Vellini, a Spanish mistress who takes pleasure in dressing as Satan, spans a full 10 years before he meets Hermangarde and comes to define his entire existence as a constant struggle between succumbing to the fulfillment of a painful obsession or resisting it.

Mm. Breillat portrays Ryno as a believable pawn in a game that is evidently out of his control. Ryno and Vellini, despite her superficial appearance as licentious and cold, clearly have no control over the grievances they inflict on each other or the pain that causes those around them. After establishing that Ryno undoubtedly loves Hermangarde to the point that he reveals his entire demented story of violent passion with Vellini to her grandmother, the film breaks down the common conception of true love as consuming and defining of one's actions. And while there is not Heathcliff-like justification of Ryno's actions, his ultimate fate is defined not by love, but by guttural underlying instincts.

The film superbly deconstructs any conception of true love yielding happy endings, but relies heavily on the idea of fate. Breillat's adaptation exposes how literally uncontrollable human behavior is when subject to unintentional desires and connections that defy (or supersede) understanding.  While exposing lesbianism, nymphomania, debauchery and deception in the time, Breillat's film is an extremely prescient commentary. The implicit critique of modern society, where we all seemingly have control over our actions and destinies, this film reminds us how insignificant our brains are in comparison to our desires.

Today's Sartorialist. No No No No. ew No. Also, I really just find nothing wrong with having political fundraisers in strip clubs.

Check out this much more insightful review written by a friend. 


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