Catherine Deneuve is fascinatingly vacant
in this re-release of Lois Buñuel's 1967 portrait of a
woman's erotic imagination. The film was racy in its time and
it's racy now--in fact, since the clothes are back in style it
hardly seems dated. Deneuve is the bored wife of a handsome doctor
who doesn't turn her on. She lies chastely beside him, having
elaborate degradation fantasies, which she tries to live out by
secretly working as a prostitute. Fantasies, dreams and reality
intertwine as Deneuve glides through it all on cruise control,
her make-up perfect, her icy surface concealing a knot of contradictions.
The film, like Deneuve, has a formal coolness that masks an active
imagination. Here as in many of his films, Buñuel gives
equal time to dream and waking life. But for all its naughty pleasures,
Belle de Jour is only a teaser compared to Buñuel's
surrealistic classics like The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie.
--Stacey Richter
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