Belle de Jour (1967)
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Recently, I wrote up a feature looking back on the 1967 French film Le Samourai which took the concept of less is more to ridiculous lengths. Today, I’m continuing to wander the streets of Paris circa the late 60s as I duck into a den of ill repute to eye one of the classic works of erotic cinema, Belle de Jour. I first came across Belle de Jour as a freshman in college. I was green in my discovery of what films could be, and the enticing Catherine Deneuve, staring from the cover bare backed with those golden locks, ensured her an early stop on my route of discovery. Unfortunately, I couldn’t escape the fact that I was also an undersexed college male so a film revolving around deviant avenues of sex that was stripped of any nudity seemed like ordering a hot fudge sundae and only getting the dish, edges stale where the fudge once was. Although this film on its first go around was about as appealing as a cold shower, it hit me on a deeper level, echoing in my mind for years to come. Now that I’m older, wiser and a shade less horny, its time to take another trip to Madame Anais’ to check-in on the errant, bourgeois housewife who is drawn to prostituting herself to allow her untapped sexual fantasies to come into bloom. Belle de Jour is a voyeuristic look at where fantasy violently collides with reality. |
Grade: B+ | Genre: Foreign/Erotic
Catherine Denevue plays Severine, a housewife leading a sheltered, dreary existence. She is married to a doctor who continually showers her with material things and subtle affection. In return, she only seems capable of giving him the cold shoulder for his loving advances. Beneath the surface of this tranquil existence lies a woman who fantasizes about her husband ripping her out of the carriage for her insolence, only to tie her to the tree as the chauffeurs take turns whipping her with the crop and doing a bit of the old in out as Alex would say. The degradation of this wanton act, and the violent hand of rape, spark excitement in her horizontally challenged sex life. Prim and proper french women shouldn’t want to be ridden like a hobbyhorse she thinks. Then a sleazy friend of her husband’s, who is constantly undressing her with his eyes and making unwanted advances, drops a mention of a local Madam he goes to for sex with women — proper women like Severine. The seed has been firmly planted, and it gets watered when she hears that her girlfriend Henrietta has taken to working in a local whorehouse after her family hits on rough financial straights. Severine musters all the courage within her to simply ring the doorbell. You can feel the deep sexual charge coursing through her in this simple act of crossing over the threshold.
She tries to escape from her first sexual foray, but the firm hand of the Madam ensures that she follows through to pleasure the squatty businessman who enjoys the delicacy of fine women. After that afternoon, the bold realization slaps her in the face that she has undoubtedly crossed some line in the marital sand. She returns home only to burn her bra and panties as a symbolic act, telling herself that this journey to the dark side of her sexual wonderings was nothing more than a momentary lapse of judgment. A week passes before she finds herself back on the Madam’s doorstep, this time ready for everything that this life has to offer. Her days lead her through a maze of fetish, voyeurism and even borderline necrophilia. The deep depravity of these sexual acts is like taking hits off a crack pipe. She continues to take greater chances as her secret life endangers her hollow happy home life.
Catherine Deneuve is a striking, sensual beauty and wraps up the naivety and the unquenchable thirst of this character. Her careful balancing act, to feed her desires without shattering her marriage, is a fascinating psychological portrait. Also, the simple fact that the actual sex acts and the beauty of the female form are teased and not slapped on display like a slab of meat really add depth and intrigue to this picture. I do think a small degree of nudity was not only warranted, but could have gone a long way to pushing the spice of this picture closer to the edge. The sexual tension that is created through her dream fantasies and when she is pushed into the brothel is masterfully done.
Belle de Jour is one of the classics of French cinema as well as the library of erotica. It shows us that everyone has urges and desires that we’re petrified for even those closest to us to discover. We think they will view us as morally inept or deviant to the point of social and marital suicide. Through showing this one woman’s trip to the other side, we see those fantasies become reality, and the consequences that come of her completely giving in to her desires. Whether the fulfillment of a lifetime of unspent desire was worth the toll that unfolds is left up to the judgmental eyes of the viewer. Your answer probably says a lot about your own expression of your deepest sexual fantasies, festering ever present below the surface.
