Hyperbolized cliché: the repressed artist whose entire supply of passion is funneled into art. But this artist, a female pianist fixated on Schumann's knowing descent into madness, adds some special kinks to her repression: visiting a porn-shop viewing booth and breathing through a discarded Kleenex as if through an oxygen mask; carving up her genitalia with a razor blade; peeping at lovers at the drive-in and squatting to pee alongside their car; scripting some S&M games for her adoring new student. The hyperbole, counteracting the overall coolness and steadiness of tone, doesn't heighten the seriousness; it very much lowers it, cheapens it. The exacting music lessons ("A wrong note in Beethoven is better than a bad interpretation") are fascinating nonetheless, and it is a great pleasure to watch two luminaries of the French cinema, Isabelle Huppert and (as her monstrous, monitoring mother, with whom she shares the same bed) Annie Girardot. With Benoit Magimel and Anna Sigalevitch; written and directed by Michael Haneke. (2001) — Duncan Shepherd
This movie is not currently in theaters.