Last Tango in Paris [Blu-ray] | DVD Review

Johnny Carson and Merv Griffin made jokes about it. Religious leaders vehemently condemned it. Pauline Kael deified it. And an entire generation never thought of butter in quite the same way after it.

Last Tango in Paris is a haunting film of extraordinary moments, ranging from the lushly romantic to the shockingly pornographic. The film gauzily recounts the tale of a middle aged American expat (Marlon Brando) who attempts to assuage crippling grief over his wife’s suicide by entering into anonymous sexual liaisons with a perky young bourgeois woman (Maria Schneider). The unlikely couple regularly meets in an empty, seedy apartment and, over a period of a few days, engage in sexual encounters that range from the quietly tender to the violently brutal. Yet, due to their furtive intimacy, each of them feels free to divulge their deepest, darkest secrets and, eventually, they forge a bond so aberrantly honest it cannot survive beyond the murky confines of the crumbling flat.

If directing a film is all about making the right choices, then Bernardo Bertolucci came very close here to running the table. Like every great film, Last Tango in Paris creates a mesmerized state in the viewer – in this case more of a nightmarish trance – and Bertolucci begins to hypnotize with the very first frame. From the opening credits, it is clear there is a stark and unsettling sensibility at work. The sequence begins in silence with a bizarre cubist painting of a man in repose. The director offers no visual relief and the audience is forced to contemplate the wretched and distorted figure. 19 seconds later, the music starts – that famous sad and seductive theme by saxophonist Gato Barbieri, its tempo like the slow breathing of a wounded animal. This overture establishes the conflicting motifs of animal aggression and human romanticism that fuel the rest of the film. Later, the city of Paris is rendered as a rococo jungle; its mansard roofs forming a slate canopy that camouflages and shields the primitive yearnings of the inhabitants below.

A variety of important career arcs converged with the making of this film. Director Bertolucci, eager to escape the repressive shadows of Italian Neo-Realism, was primed to create an important and startling film that would draw the world’s attention. According to legend, the film was largely improvised, with Bertolucci divulging that, in his opinion, the film was ultimately about his penis. While some of the dialogue may have been seat-of-the-pants, the structure of the film is far from haphazard. Close analysis reveals the type of smooth, virtually invisible camera moves that are only possible with precise blocking. The scenes flow in a surreal logic, with the opening and closing of doors serving as seamless transitions. Bertolucci is persistently manipulative in contrasting Schneider’s secret, primal relationship with Brando and her public interactions with her prissy filmmaker fiancé Tom (Jean Pierre Leaud, as a thinly disguised Truffaut). Despite his protestations, it’s clear Bertolucci knew exactly where he wanted to go, and exercised great skill and control in the journey.

Meanwhile, a young cameraman named Vittorio Storaro was eager to demonstrate his ideas on how color temperatures could be unconventionally mixed for dramatic effect, creating a new, available-light-on-steroids, aesthetic. He and Bertolucci worked together carefully to provide a believable motivation for Storaro’s artistically placed illumination. In the couple’s first encounter at the empty apartment, Bertolucci has Schneider open the large, rickety shutters, revealing the Paris skyline in warm afternoon sun. On a narrative level, this simple act is a metaphorical opening of the soul, but it also serves as a boon to the electrical department. When a shocking sexual encounter occurs a few moments later – in one long take – those off screen windows allow Storaro to bathe a large area of the set in a moody sidelight, giving the actors the freedom to roll about at will and indulge their wildest instincts.

And Marlon Brando, already an established superstar, was looking to take his acting method to its logical conclusion; the use of his most toxic personal memories to define his character. There is nothing held in reserve; no dusty emotional corner – or physical orifice – too guarded to be probed. His conflicting displays of brutality and abject weakness create an unfathomably complex character; a character in the throes of disintegration from the inside. When Brando attempts societal assimilation in the final reels, his conventional romantic notions turn on him like the murderous mutineers from The Bounty. This character, like Brando and Schneider’s love, simply cannot exist in the daylight of the real world. Brando achieved his goal, but at enormous cost to his psyche. Frankly, he was never the same actor after this performance.

Over the years, few films have been folded, spindled and mutilated as much as Last Tango in Paris. The first VHS version released in the US back in the 1980s was so prudishly edited the story was rendered hopelessly incoherent. Even the famous butter scene was goofily obscured by a superimposed animated light fixture. If there was ever a film deserving of a deluxe blu-ray edition, it’s Bertolucci’s masterpiece.

However, this isn’t it. This Fox release is so starkly devoid of extras I had to recheck the box to make sure it was a legit product. The disc features the film, the trailer (the same ho-hum teaser featured on the DVD release) and…well…that’s it. Oh, there’s a disclaimer stating that 20th Century Fox Corporation is not responsible for anything you see or hear. No commentary tracks, no behind-the-scenes, no nothing. The disc doesn’t even have a proper menu, only a meager pop-up menu that I discovered quite by accident.

To describe this reviewer as gob smacked is understating the case. Spitting mad would be more like it. A bit of investigation reveals internet rumors of a full blown Last Tango in Paris blu-ray in the works from Criterion, as part of a future Bertolucci box set. While these rumors are unsubstantiated, and should be taken with minimal salt, the idea actually makes a lot of sense. The good folks at Criterion never skimp on extras, so if this slapdash version is intended as a lower cost stopgap, then I suppose that’s some rationalization. For now, we’ll just have to cling to the hope those Criterion rumors are true.

The disc does have the film in its original cut, thank goodness, and it has never looked better. The gray winter light gives the Parisian exteriors a bitter raw edge, while the interiors glow with sensual tones of ochre and gold. The transfer is pleasingly sharp without excessive digital enhancement. It’s also immaculately clean. I don’t recall seeing a single speck of dust in the entire presentation. And yes, I’m geeky enough to look for those kinds of things.

There’s only one choice of soundtrack, the original mono mix, which I suppose will delight the purists. Unfortunately, it features the same poorly balanced, earsplitting music I remember from the release prints back in the 70s. In a cavernous theatre, the blasting sax solos created the disturbing sense of a savage and dangerous world. In the home environment, it just induces headaches. Smart viewers will have the volume control at the ready when screening this disc. Hopefully that’s another issue a future Criterion release will fix.

While infamous for its intense sexuality, Last Tango’s most memorable scene occurs near the finale, with the principals fully clothed, and features a moment of heartbreaking tenderness. Brando and Schneider crash a pretentious tango contest at a cheesy dance hall. The couple squabble then, in a drunken haze, stagger onto the dance floor where they enrage the judges with an array of comically suggestive moves. Brando and Schneider embrace and, despite the realization that their avant-garde love affair is doomed, melt into a soft and sensual kiss. As Last Tango in Paris approaches its 40th birthday, it remains a cinematic work of undiminished greatness. We can only hope that eventually, perhaps in the far-flung future, someone will create a home video package worthy of it.

Reviewed by David Anderson

Movie rating – 5

Disc Rating – 2