André Téchiné manages to turn up plenty of intriguing things in Paris, a little drably photographed, however. And in the occupants thereof he turns up plenty of unintriguing things such as would never be found in any actual occupants of any city on earth. Recklessly, violently, insanely, Frenchly, fatiguingly romantic, the movie is a kind of erotic ghost story with no real eroticism and no real ghosts either. With, instead, a lot of mental aberration and little actual psychology. Among its lovemaking tips, impractical for all but those in the extremest form of "love-hate relationship": spitting in your partner's face (Juliette Binoche is the accommodating spittee or spittoon, Lambert Wilson the spitter) and then licking it off. With Jean-Louis Trintignant. (1985) — Duncan Shepherd
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