Word: tangoes
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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MAYBE IT'S SOMETHING to do with films that get themselves known as legends, but L'Amour Fou and Last Tango in Paris are stunningly parallel, not least because both explore the definitions of love and sheer aggression in sexuality...
...exciting as the stuff that has come out of post-war Poland. Anybody who's seen Akropolis, the film of Jerzy Grotowski's Polish Laboratory Theater, can bear me out on that. Slawomir Mrozek has already made his mark on modern theater with such widely produced plays as Tango and Police. Like many of his Polish contemporaries, he is preoccupied with the lessons of the Hitler regime. (Grotowski's actors, for instance, wear army fatigues no matter what play they are doing, while dismembered department-store mannequins and blood-stained clothing are common props in current Polish stage design...
...start off, they give you The Soldier's Tale. Now we all know that only in The Rite of Spring did Stravinsky truly succeed in his lifelong quest for a musical equivalent of Last Tango in Paris. But it seems to me that The Soldier's Tale comes much closer to bringing music into the twentieth century we know today, the century in which the common people--in the poems of Ezra Pound as well as the jungles of Indochina -- insist on asserting their rightful sway...
...buyers, retailing executives and journalists turned up for the pret-a-porter (ready-to-wear) shows and found the usual mania. A tightrope walker equiliberated over the crowd jammed into the Commercial Stock Exchange, where a big show was taking place. At Designer Vicky Tiel's "New Tango in Paris" exhibit, dancing models plucked partners from the audience for a whirl around the floor. As always, the gendarmes had crowd-control problems. Amidst all the hoopla was a rather prosaic message: women buying Paris labels next fall will find many of them attached to familiar skirts and sweaters. Dresses...
...chain of random perversities (like Mother's loves for Father's boots). He does throw in a welcome parody of Godard and his films, all hollow Hollywood-loving childishness, abetted by the eternally adolescent actor Jean-Pierre Leaud. But even its welcome is soon worn out. And the last tango itself is pathetic: painted Fellini faces contort, and toothpick bodies sway on a dance floor as Paul tries to impress Jeanne at ringside with foreign accents and booze, and after a few drunken moves on the dance floor, flashes a moon at an irate dance judge...