Not So PurePassion

Don’t watch these movies with your kids. Even if they’re grown-ups.

No one suggests these films as favorite romances. They are better described as anti-romances. Although beautifully made (most are on “The New York Times Top 1,000 List” and won many awards worldwide), they are not pretty. They are about sex and even love as power.

In Bernardo Bertolucci’s “Last Tango in Paris” (1972) Jeanne (Maria Schneider), a 20-year-old, beautiful Parisienne, meets Paul (Marlon Brando), a 45-year-old American, whose wife just killed herself. They have a no-names, I-don’t-want-to-know-anything-about-you torrid affair which Paul uses to alleviate his loneliness and hurt.

Jeanne’s motivation is less easily defined except, perhaps, as adventure and escape from her cinema verite fanatic fiancé. “Last Tango” was controversial at the time of its release for its raw sexuality.

“Swept Away” (By an Unusual Destiny in the Blue Sea of August) (1974) by Lina Wertmuller (the first female director nominated for a Best Director Oscar) is about a communist sailor named Gennarino (Giancarlo Giannini) who is stranded on an island with a beautiful, rich capitalist named Raffaella (Mariangela Melato).

When they are in the “real” world, Raffaella torments Gennarino with her demands and insults. On the island, he assumes dominance and makes her into a willing servant and sexual slave. The mystery is what will happen when they return to reality. Don’t be turned off by the super-fast-talking Italian discussions of communism and capitalism at the beginning. They set the political dimensions of what happens on the island. Be sure to get the original film, not the 2002 remake.

Jean-Jacques Beineix’s “Betty Blue” (1986) remains in the realm of “normal” sex — lots of it — but the interaction of the characters, particularly that of Betty (Beatrice Dalle), with reality is abnormal. Her lover Zorg (Jean-Hugues Anglade) is dragged into her craziness, culminating in a momentous final act.

“Dangerous Liaisons” (1988), an 18th Century period drama by Stephen Frears, veers off into sexual weirdness. The Marquise de Merteuil (Glenn Close) and Vicomte Sébastien de Valmont (John Malkovich), former lovers, plot to seduce two innocents, a married woman (Michelle Pfeiffer) and a young virgin (Uma Thurman). Both leading characters are cruel and vindictive.

A further step into calculated darkness is Yann Samuel’s “Love Me if You Dare” (2003). “Love Me’s” couple grow up playing a game of dare. As adults Julien (Guillaume Canet) and Sophie (Marion Cotillard) apply cruelty and vindictiveness not to others so much as themselves. Depending on which of the two alternative endings you accept, their power struggle exceeds that of the couples in any of the preceding films. You will not like these people.

David Lynch’s “Blue Velvet” (1986) juxtaposes dark dealings with innocent exploration. Here the lead character, a young man named Jeffrey (Kyle MacLachlan), encounters the darkest side of sex in the person of Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini), who is being tortured by Frank (Dennis Hopper), the man who has kidnapped her son and husband. At the same time Jeffrey falls for high school student Sandy (Laura Dern), daughter of the detective investigating Dorothy’s case. The most provocative aspect of this film is how Jeffrey’s desire to save Dorothy results in his sexual exploitation of her.

The characters in the films discussed above are fascinating — worthy of analysis, but not sympathy. The next film shocks because its despicable lovers evoke empathy. Thus, the viewer’s complicity becomes part of the film’s horrific content.

Liliana Cavani’s “The Night Porter” (1974) is not on “The New York Times Top 1,000 List.” It may be the most controversial film of our time.

In 1957 a former Nazi officer named Max (Dirk Bogarde) works as a night porter in a plush Vienna hotel because he cannot stand the exposure of daylight. Lucia (Charlotte Rampling), the now grown girl whom Max victimized in a World War II concentration camp, comes to the hotel. Lucia and Max radiate disbelief as they recognize each other.

A group of former Nazis want to “file her away” as part of their efforts to extinguish any links to their terrible pasts. Unlike the others, Max does not want to extirpate his guilt. He simply wants to live a quiet, unassuming life. So does Lucia, now an American comfortably married to an opera conductor. Yet, their accidental reunion shatters their post-war worlds.

Max loves his “little girl” and resumes his protective but sado-masochistic relation with her. She, in a monumental testament to the Stockholm syndrome, re-accepts him as both father figure and lover.

Cavani supposedly based her story on interviews with a concentration camp survivor.