Some interesting experimentation with split-screen images, images-within-images, and images of differing dimensions -- but that sort of interest dries up fast. Writer-director Peter Greenaway (The Cook, the Thief, His Wife, and Her Lover, et al.) gives us a sort of love story and a sort of revenge story, though "story" is surely too substantial, too flattering a term for the factitious kink-fest concerning the art, or the fetish, of writing on human flesh. Any amount of twitter around the movie is apt to be stirred up not by the plot developments (a corpse disinterred and skinned for sentimental reasons), much less by the visual experimentation, but simply by the number of penises on exhibit (or in the case of Ewan McGregor, the size). In that department, Greenaway offers the biggest jackpot since the death of Pasolini. With Vivian Wu and Ken Ogata. (1997) — Duncan Shepherd
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