There’s something that’s inherently upsetting about movies that take place in a single location. The natural tendency of cinema is to explore, to expand, to find new and uncanny things to view through a lens. Restricting the action to a single room – no matter how big it is – is a creative decision that comes with increasing anxiety. The audience is trapped, they want to escape, and they’re stuck here with only the characters the film brought with them.
So they’d better be interesting. In Roman Polanski’s Venus in Fur, “interesting” is never a problem. The only two characters in the movie, a theater director named Thomas (Mathieu Amalric) and an auditioning actress named Vanda (Emmanuelle Seigner), are constantly exploring their newfound connection. They are prodding and expanding and embracing both kinky and demanding roles that evolve over the film’s dense 96-minute running time. They go everywhere through their interactions, and Polanski finds deft ways to turn one location – a theater – into everything they need it to be.
Related: Emmanuelle Seigner on Mysteries and Mary Poppins
Thomas can’t find an actress to star in his adaptation of Leopold von Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs, a novel about a masochistic relationship between a man and the woman he invites to dominate him. In blusters Vanda – also (coincidentally?) the name of the character in Sacher-Masoch’s play – an annoying and bubbly actress who won’t take “get the hell out” for an answer. But get her on stage and she’s perfection: Vanda is Vanda. And as such she is better at giving directions than she is at taking them.
The screenplay by original playwright David Ives and Roman Polanski is dense with subtext, to the extent that it overpowers the actual text. On-stage cacti are simply penises. The author is indeed his protagonist no matter how hard he protests. The only issue, and only plot point, is whether Thomas will finally recognize just what he wants from Vanda, from the other Vanda, and for himself. The only surprise comes from whether that’s supposed to be a good thing or not.
Related: David Ives on Adapting Venus in Fur with Roman Polanski
Venus in Fur dissects the text of Sacher-Masoch’s Venus in Furs as it recreates it; it’s a sexy cinematic podcast with two rambling talking heads who just happen to be in various states of dress and undress, each with their own argument and one finally revealed to be more resolute than the other. It is a tale of destruction and creation bolstered by two intense and noteworthy performances by two actors committed to selling every line of dialogue. It’s an exercise in minimalistic filmmaking from a director who knows how to eke the maximum effect from the fewest available resources.
And it overstays its welcome. Venus in Fur cannot end subtly, although perhaps it would have been more potent to do so. The final turns are heavily foreshadowed and overly illustrated with obvious visual metaphors, and ultimately the point is outright screamed with surreal and not entirely convincing abandon. It’s a striking image and a moment intense of emotional and intellectual upheaval, but it’s hard to shake the idea from your mind that it may also be silly. But wherever this one-room journey takes you, the company you’ll keep is fantastic.
William Bibbiani is the editor of CraveOnline’s Film Channel and the host of The B-Movies Podcast and The Blue Movies Podcast. Follow him on Twitter at @WilliamBibbiani.
