Based on a play by David Ives and set in a seedy theater, VENUS IN FUR is a two-hander wherein a director (Mathieu Amalric) auditions a two-bit actor (Emmanuelle Seigner) for a role in his stage adaptation of VENUS IN FURS, an 1870 novel by the Austrian author Leopold von Sacher-Masoch. From this work the term "masochism" became commonplace.
Director Roman Polanski's use of a single set allows him to focus closely on the relationship between the protagonists. As the film begins, it seems that the director enjoys a hold over the actor; he not only has the power to dictate whether she is suitable for the role or not, but claims the privilege of masculinity as being stereotypically the "strongest" sex.
As the action unfolds, however, so the roles begin to change. This is achieved through a clever manipulation of dialogue between the characters. Sometimes they appear to be reading the adaptation out loud; on other occasions they simply talk to one another. Initially it seems as if Polanski is keen to separate the two (distinguishing "fiction" from "reality," so to speak), but as the film advances we find it more and more difficult to distinguish between them.
Likewise the concept of role-playing becomes difficult to work out, as the two characters exchange roles - the director taking the female lead, the actress playing the male in the adaptation. This move gives both of them the chance to explore the concepts of "masculinity" and "femininity" and how they are socially constructed and/or (de-)constructed.
In an ending of almost Gothic proportions, the actress emerges triumphant while the director ends up being discomfited, proving beyond doubt how gender roles can be readily challenged, or even subverted.
While Polanski's concerns are undoubtedly significant, our appreciation of them is tempered somewhat by the nagging sense that, as a male director, he is reinforcing rather than challenging gender concerns. This is especially evident in the way his camera lovingly pans over Seigner's semi-naked body - her legs, arms and full breasts. She ends up being objectified even while trying to challenge the director's patriarchal authority.
Nonetheless VENUS IN FUR remains compelling, as well as intense viewing - a testament to what can be achieved on a limited budget and a simple setting.
Director Roman Polanski's use of a single set allows him to focus closely on the relationship between the protagonists. As the film begins, it seems that the director enjoys a hold over the actor; he not only has the power to dictate whether she is suitable for the role or not, but claims the privilege of masculinity as being stereotypically the "strongest" sex.
As the action unfolds, however, so the roles begin to change. This is achieved through a clever manipulation of dialogue between the characters. Sometimes they appear to be reading the adaptation out loud; on other occasions they simply talk to one another. Initially it seems as if Polanski is keen to separate the two (distinguishing "fiction" from "reality," so to speak), but as the film advances we find it more and more difficult to distinguish between them.
Likewise the concept of role-playing becomes difficult to work out, as the two characters exchange roles - the director taking the female lead, the actress playing the male in the adaptation. This move gives both of them the chance to explore the concepts of "masculinity" and "femininity" and how they are socially constructed and/or (de-)constructed.
In an ending of almost Gothic proportions, the actress emerges triumphant while the director ends up being discomfited, proving beyond doubt how gender roles can be readily challenged, or even subverted.
While Polanski's concerns are undoubtedly significant, our appreciation of them is tempered somewhat by the nagging sense that, as a male director, he is reinforcing rather than challenging gender concerns. This is especially evident in the way his camera lovingly pans over Seigner's semi-naked body - her legs, arms and full breasts. She ends up being objectified even while trying to challenge the director's patriarchal authority.
Nonetheless VENUS IN FUR remains compelling, as well as intense viewing - a testament to what can be achieved on a limited budget and a simple setting.