The Pornographer

We pray the United States Supreme Court is soon peopled by non-Puritans who will believe the First Amendment guarantees Americans the right to produce and watch what pleases them. The current federal court system is full of Reagan-era morons who do not believe we as a people have enough sense to decide for ourselves what we see on television and at the movies.

Having lived through the cultural revolution of the 1960's, I would have hoped to see by now more open minds on the bench and in the federal Executive Branch. Instead, we have had the same draconian moral arbiters we've had since the 1950's. For instance, instead of moving forward toward freedom from censorship, we have to deal with the likes of Bush's Federal Communications Commission chairman Michael Powell (son of "there can be no doubt that Saddam Hussein has biological weapons" Colin Powell), whose obsession with Janet Jackson's breast drove him to seek higher FCC fines to punish radio and television stations and networks who have the temerity to broadcast words and images which violate his poor Baptist ears.

Jacques (Jean-Pierre Léaud) is the son of a doctor, born in 1950, who had dedicated his life from 1970 to 1984 to pornographic movies. His wife committed suicide when his son Joseph (Jérémie Rénier) was five, and when he was a teenager, he became aware of the profession of his father and left home. Presently Jacques is broken and has decided to accept the invitation to direct porno movies again. Meanwhile his son, now seventeen years old, decides to approach to him.

This film is so pretentious and boring that irritated me. The story is quite ridiculous, and the antagonistic philosophic behavior of Jacques is funny. A guy who dedicated his life (since twenty years old) to pornography, in the beginning just because he wanted to attract girls for having sex, worked along fourteen years with sex, is not to have an existential middle-age crisis like showed in the plot of this movie. I do not like porno movies and I am not a moralist person, but if I have to see explicit sex, at least lets see with beautiful actresses in erotic situation. I do not know the name of the 'actress' in the explicit scene, but she will certainly be marked for the rest of her career. I do not understand how such a crap was awarded in Cannes. My vote is four.

Title (Brazil): 'O Pornógrafo' ('The Pornographer')

It's truly riling when a film reeking of self importance and supposed deep meaning is so obviously a total fake. There may have once been French films in which great existential truths were told with a particularly somber French seriousness. This must have made a lasting impression on many a future director who dreamed of one day putting some of their own deep truths on screen. This led to too many pretentious French films which really have little if anything of importance to say, other than some empty platitudes in the guise of a intellectualism. These films tend to give you the feeling of inadequacy. While others around are imbibing the pearls of wisdom you may sit dumbfounded wondering what it's all about. Don't be fooled for a minute by this hollow pretense.

"Le Pornographe" is a prime example. It's a total bluff and in cinematic terms a complete mess. Jean-Pierre Leaud trades off his legendary younger days as Truffaut's alter ego. This may lend a certain weight to the character, but again it's a mere cloak for the nothingness beneath. The actors are constantly brooding, with a vacant expressionless stare. This is not meaningful as director Bonello would want us to believe, it's simple a façade. Jeremie Renier, one of the more promising young French actors is wasted in this vacuous exercise.

You might think a statement would be made about the nature of pornography, a subject begging out for a truly insightful cinematic investigation. But even that is skirted. What remains is an extremely irritating and decidedly boring film. Even the inclusion of two hard core (though distantly shot) sex scenes, both totally devoid of any eroticism, fails to inject some life into this abomination.

Fakery of the very worst kind.

This film marks the first time I saw a penetration scene on a basic cable channel. It's significant, if not technically or artistically amazing.

It was in medium shot, and at first I thought it was more simulated softcore nonsense since the gentleman appeared to be positioned too far away during coitus. Turns out he was just impressively endowed.

'Pornographe' turns in good performances from the actors, especially Leaud. He has the kind of homeopathic presence that made Sarah Polley famous. From a distance, the French national character appears understated, and quite reserved. Contrast that with the classic German, who is full of bluster, extroverted positivity, and usually neat as a pin. The English, finally, appear perpetually drunk and flooding the sidewalk with urine.

The long meditative shots of trees were meant to convey atmosphere, but kind of made me feel like I was waiting at a bus-stop. A minor complaint - it's worth seeing.

Jacques (Jean-Pierre Léaud) is more like a philosopher in this movie by Bertrand Bonello than a director of a pornographic movie. He looks back at his life and explores the sense of his existence. It is not clear how he lives when he makes his last movie after some years of interruption and how he sees his future but he takes some comfort in the presence of his son. This movie is very sober and in fact it is pessimistic because it does not give us an answer about the meaning of the life of the main character Jacques. Is he sad about his career as a maker of pornographic movies or is he proud of his work?