Neuter these scenes of their prurient function, however, and they’re no more engaging than watching someone play a videogame.īy focusing on the relatively banal rift between Murphy and Electra, Noe risks making the sex boring - which might explain why he resorts to gimmick shots (including a 3D-enhanced view of that in-utero eruption seen in “Enter the Void”) and a dark descent into sexual experimentation. Noe didn’t set out to arouse rather, he intends to stress how sex is a vital aspect of the way humans connect (joining a crusade to demystify sex onscreen by such artists as Andy Warhol, Lars von Trier, Catherine Breillat and John Cameron Mitchell). Though undeniably endowed with other assets, Glusman is not a good actor, nor a particularly compelling screen presence - and Muyock even less so (in some scenes, it’s actually hard to distinguish between Electra and two other brunettes Murphy shags along the way).Īn American in Paris, Murphy is constantly surrounded by heavy accents, whose difficulties with English impede their line readings, which will surely inspire snarky types to dismiss the acting as being no better than porn performances - and yet, this is not pornography. The trouble is, we don’t actually share Murphy’s feelings. Here, he tends to stare at Murphy head-on, or else to study the back of his head, counting on 3D to amplify our sense of identification. In “Enter the Void,” Noe experimented with direct subjectivity, peering through the characters’ eyes. Inarritu did with “Birdman.” Here, instead of appearing seamless, the shots have been choreographed in such a way that Murphy’s position within the frame remains constant across the cuts - many of which work more like eye-blinks, snapping to black for a split-second either within or between the given shots.
Although the sequence of flashbacks is a jumble, Noe has carefully coordinated and timed how they will unspool in the film, locking himself into a certain pace (overlong at 135 minutes), the way Alejandro G. This menage a trois may not be “love,” but it’s something beautiful in Noe’s eyes - an explicit marathon, not unlike the sexual initiation scene in “Blue Is the Warmest Color,” but less incongruous with the highly stylized dramatic footage that surrounds it.įor this one blissful scene, Murphy manages to enjoy both women, but from then on, he must cope with the consequences of infidelity. Noe shoots from above, maintaining an elegant distance, while sparing audiences the garish angles and gratuitous closeups of so-called “adult” fare. Whereas the one-on-one sex pairs the missionary position with old-fashioned romantic music, the hot-and-heavy session between Murphy, Electra and Omi inspires electric guitars and more adventurous framing: Horizontally entwined, the three lovers fill the widescreen frame, enjoying porn-star sex without the tacky XXX cliches. Murphy takes the information badly, though it’s much harder on Electra, whom Noe clearly adores, mistaking her sex appeal for sufficient cause that audiences might love her, too.Īt best, Electra becomes an object of lust, betrayed by the very neighbor she suggested that they invite to a threesome. The condom breaks (the camera helpfully reveals Glusman’s still-tumescent member for the benefit of those upon whom the concept is lost), and a mere jump cut later, Omi is breaking the ominous news that she’s with child. More aggressively fragmented than Noe’s notorious chronology-flipping “Irreversible,” yet far calmer in terms of Steadicam-style lensing, “Love” builds to a comparable fantasy of how things might have turned out differently.īut first, it has to establish how the relationship with Electra unraveled, leaping back in time to show Murphy cheating on her with Omi.
Two years have passed since Electra found the nerve to dump Murphy (whose eponymous law, emblazoned in big block letters across a red screen, dictates, “If anything can go wrong, it will”). It is New Year’s Day in Paris, a time to re-evaluate one’s life and priorities, and a voicemail from Electra’s worried mother suggests that her daughter may have committed suicide.
Strange, then, that the very next scene shows Murphy waking up beside a completely different woman, blonde-haired Omi (Klara Kristin), while his son cries in the other room. Using only their hands, the naked couple tease each other to completion in a scene we’re meant to interpret as clear evidence of their sexual compatibility. Whereas more than a century’s worth of cinematic romances have delayed onscreen couples’ chance to consummate their attraction - whether via innocent kiss on the cheek or vigorous fireside sex atop a bearskin rug - Noe defuses the suspense by opening with American film buff Murphy (Karl Glusman) and aspiring French artist Electra (Aomi Muyock) manipulating one another in bed.