Successive Slidings of Pleasure

Few are those movies I've seen that so emphatically push down any strong, clear sense of narrative. There is indeed a narrative here, but it is loose, and broad, even as the specifics are many and joyously devious. 'Successive slidings of pleasure,' or 'Glissements progressifs du plaisir,' is effectively the portrait of a deeply troubled and twisted young woman. What, here, is reality? What is her perception of it, or her imagination of it, or her deliberately misleading description of it? Whatever small thread there may be that ties together successive scenes, most imagery feels so wildly detached from one moment to the next that one might reasonably question if there is truly any rhyme or reason to it at all. And still this is cohesive and whole, however wildly abstruse it may get - and peculiarly mesmerizing.

There's a sense of exploitation to the feature in the substantial nudity, suggested sex acts, and the protagonist's lurid dialogue, yet it is pointedly muted, and rendered almost abstract by the intensely contorted storytelling. Similarly, there's a sense of horror promulgated in the suggested violence, the devilish manipulation or deception of other characters, and the gnarly, convoluted tangle of the prisoner's psychology, but this too is mangled, broken and reformed into only the most curious of shapes. Above all, 'Successive slidings of pleasure' is 100% an art film: imagery and scenes constructed with the same creative eye and mind as a painter at a canvas, or a sculptor before an untamed slab of stone; storytelling informed by the lofty pretension of a poet whose every word and phrase must have hidden meaning (or does it?), whose very arrangement of lines in a precise structure surely portend something more (or do they?). Are there Big Ideas lurking behind the assemblage here? Or is it "simply" as it seems, a web of nigh incomprehensible sex, violence, dark fantasy, and finessed craftsmanship?

I've never seen anything quite like this, and I suppose the average viewer hasn't, either. The appeal is likely minimal except for those open to all the wide, weird variety cinema has to offer. Yet it's plainly beautiful, fascinating, and jarring, all at once. The cinematography, the editing, the writing and direction; the production design, the art direction, the costume design, the hair and makeup; the music, the extraordinary cast, their splendid performances of poise and nuance - everything here is bent towards masterful, subtle artistry, manifesting an odd atmosphere of tension and unease even as the presentation could hardly be more dreamlike. And it's exquisite - bold, visionary, gorgeous, fabulous.

It's a lot to take in and process at every turn, but for those willing and able to actively engage with such ambitious, grandiose fare, it's exceptional, and highly rewarding. Only by chance did I stumble onto this, but I could hardly be happier that I did: 'Successive slidings of pleasure' is an utter delight.

SPOLILERS...kind of.

There is so much going on in this movie it's hard to know where to start. The key is a line where the girl's lawyer says, "All who approach you are perverts, insane. But it's all in your little mind." Looked at in that context, the "plot" means nothing since it's more about thoughts than action.

That said, the central character, called only "The Prisoner" is arrested for the murder of her lover, Nora. The two are in a Domme/sub, BDSM relationship with The Prisoner portrayed as the Dominant.

Many characters take on double meanings. The police, it seems to me, represent the author, asking supposedly meaningless questions that would only make sense if you were creating a rich background life for a character such as The Prisoner. One of the cops, rather than documenting the crime, blatantly records the themes of the movie: "Themes of broken bottles". Bottles stand in for the wombs and this refers the broken mother/daughter relationship between...

...The Prisoner and Nora. Nora is her mother. The same cop that records themes rather than evidence, has a scene where he recites words while writing and researching something (probably the screenplay being filmed) in the bed Nora was killed in. This is crosscut with The Prisoner being show objects and free associating. The cop says "parricide". The Prisoner says "disassociation".

Throughout the movie, Nora seems the submissive except for one scene - when the Prisoner sells herself to a man looking for deviant sex. She takes them up to the room. Nora lounges in a window seat. Stepping back, the actual "plot" revolves around Mother Nora selling and sexually abusing her daughter.

Her court-appointed lawyer (read "protector") is played by the same actress that plays Nora. At first, Nora acts like the mother The Prisoner wants/needs - strict and no-nonsense. But, The Prisoner's insanity seduces Lawyer/Mom/Nora, or at least that's the scenario The Prisoner dreams up. The Prisoner ends up killing Lawyer/Mom/Nora in very similar circumstances.

Plot-wise, the police find that Nora was NOT killed by the prisoner. They come to tell The Prisoner this and find The Lawyer dead. "We'll have to start over", the cop says.

What the director presents to us is a portrait of The Prisoner, deep in the clutches of her disassociation, creating a world that's easier for her to live in - where she controls her mother, dressing her as a manikin and, just by thinking about it, causes people to die. It's complex, gorgeous and, if not actual porn, has enough nudity to satisfy that requirement if that's what you're looking for.

Before the opening credits were over, I could tell that this was going to be an impenetrable piece of pretentious arthouse garbage. I don't usually like to use the word pretentious - it's a lazy epithet - but in this case, it has never been more apt: the whole film is up itself.

I watched it on the mistaken belief that it was a horror film; it's not. Exactly what it is is anyone's guess - the surreal story is so abstract and the treatment so avant-garde that it's hard to work out what director Alain Robbe-Grillet's intention was.

If the film wasn't French and from the '70s, I would have guessed that the whole thing was a parody of French '70s arthouse cinema, but it isn't: this is the real deal. Perhaps if the film was condensed to twenty minutes of the weirdest moments (whilst retaining the gratuitous nudity, of course), I wouldn't hate it quite as much as I do, but at a whopping 105 minutes, it is an excruciatingly, dull watch.

Due to a technical hitch, I had to view the last twenty minutes or so without subtitles, but it didn't make a whole lot of difference: I had long given up trying to make sense of it all.

1/10. One of the worst films I have ever seen.

A young woman is interrogated by the police and the judges,suspected of being a modern witch.The girl who shared her apartment has been found dead with a pair of scissors impaled through her heart,as she lay attached to the bedposts.Apparently,the girl does have powers,to make all people around her fall prey to her spell,glissing progressively into desire,lust and the unknown.Alain Robbe-Grillet has to be one of the most innovative French novelists and film-makers.His "Successive Slidings of Pleasure" is a wonderful film that contains plenty of surreal moments and lots of sleaze.The movie itself is truly unique and bizarre,so fans of unusual European art-house exploitation won't be disappointed.So if you are a fan of Jean Rollin's works give this one a look.This is my first journey into Alain Robbe-Grillet's visions and I'm highly impressed!

Not as instantly likable as Trans-Europ-Express but just as beautifully photographed, this time in colour, and if we do not follow every nuance at least we believe the writer/director does. So there is no suggestion that we are being led down any garden path, just that Robbe-Grillet's obsessions are maybe not quite the same as our own. This seemed fine at first and as with the aforementioned film, I was happy enough with the various 'truths' being offered and didn't panic. As things become more religious, however, with suggestions of witchcraft, I felt myself becoming more distant. This may work differently for others but I just wasn't interested enough in that side of things. Priests, nuns and catholic guilt are all very fine but are not one of my concerns. Has to be said that the gorgeous ladies here are perfectly happy to remove their clothes and the usual S&M trappings we associate with the director are much to the fore. Not all bad then.