The Dreamers (2004)

I'm not sure if "The Dreamers" is trying to reassure movie buffs like me, in that locking up three of our kind together in a Parisian complex results in some kind of kinky party. Or maybe it's a bad sign, in that becoming obsessed with movies pretty much fucks you up in the head.

Either way, I'm not convinced, and it's because I'm still not sure who this film is made for. Certainly not softcore porn enthusiasts, since I'm positive that director Bernardo Bertolluci ("Last Tango In Paris") has something else he wants to get in our heads here, even if Eva Green gets fully naked and mostly stays that way.

And when they're not re-enacting scenes from classic celluloid, this triangle of lovers (a brother, a sister, and an American) don't just have sex---they masturbate in front of each other, rub menstrual blood on each other's faces, recieve oral sex while dressed as the Venus de Milo, play another's favorite song full blast to piss them off, and one attempt to shave another's pubic hair---all for no apparent reason, leaving the viewer waiting for a resolution that never comes.

There's a single subtly important scene early on in the film that takes place at the dinner table, with the three soon-to-be-lovers and the siblings' parents, in which Theo, the brother (playing a stereotypically French badass) blames the father (a poet) for not signing a petition against the Vietnam war, reminding him of the most famous words he once wrote: "A petition is a poem, and a poem is a petition." The father snaps back, "I'm not that old, so you don't need to remind me of my own work," and disregards the son's next comment, when he admits he never wants to end up like his father. The dinner ends, the scene ends, the parents suddenly decide to take a vacation and leave the three alone for the week(end?) without a single word.

Maybe this is why the siblings are so rebellious and lost; their parents refuse to admit their shortcomings, and then leave them unsupervised. So I guess mom and dad are to blame here, although their presence feels like an unfinished subplot---even moreso when the parents return shortly before the film ends in an equally "wtf" moment.

You can take any number of things from this movie, like "Thirteen" before it and "Borat" after, which is also what makes it dangerous. Just like how so many promiscuous teenagers made fun of the former, and generally everyone in America (including me) died laughing at the latter, you could do the same with the overstated eroticism and ludicrousness of this film.

We don't need any more movies like this. It doesn't tell us anything about the gloriousness of cinema, it just shows us some stupid dreamers who can't help fucking everyone over.

Grade: D+