In Louis Buell’s “Bell de Jur”, a housewife goes to an elite brothel during the day, where she is able to discover fantasies that are not as bold as her husband’s advice. It is one of the most daring films ever made, it is not so much for the reason that this controversial classic reveals the infinitely complex psychology of human sex.
Director Josephine McCarthy’s “Alice” shares the rebellious spirit and casts the woman of its destructive leadership into those same few shadows. But unlike Katherine Deniew’s muscular character, young married mother Alice Ferrand (innocent, fragile-looking Emily Piponnier) is not trying to feed any particular fetish when she starts working for a high-class Paris brothel. Rather than calling the phone numbers in her husband’s personal records, she discovered this hidden world by accident on the day her credit cards stopped working. He agreed to become an escort, as it was the only way to raise the money he needed to save from the house he called the apartment.
A truly independent debut (permit or institutional support) given a shot in Paris outside the system, “Alice” comes out somewhere to win the top prize at the 2019 SXSW Film Festival. Excluding such praise, it is not a study to fully comprehend the brush awakening of a foolish wife rather than a thinly sketched story of women’s empowerment, it pushes a spontaneous sex-positive agenda where prostitution is a reasonable, comparative concern for financial emancipation.
It goes without saying that such activities cannot be free, even if the cinema traditionally takes a moralist stance against it. Coming from a more open-minded place, “Alice” combines specific time-honored political talk points – her #meto-consistent masculine critique, irrational attitude towards sex, and the main female representation on both sides of the camera – but in the end falls short as a final solution is believable. To feel Then again, the hard work only makes sense because the film’s “realistic” handheld style conveys a sense of intelligence.
It’s a simple fantasy or novel-like approach to a woman’s ridiculous victory over curiosity and deception (betrayed by her husband’s imaginative behavior, she seeks the freedom to do what she wants), and it’s a slender, skillful piece. Storytelling, surprisingly played by its two little-known leads. In that sense, “Alice” Stanley Kubrick’s hermetic hypothetical sexual fantasy looks less than a “wide-eyed shot”, but this time the genders are reversed, and it’s Alice who is taking her husband’s step.
The movie unfolds as a mystery and establishes a seemingly perfect marriage between Alice and her sister-in-law, the very attentive husband, Franোois (Martin Swabi). Pleasing enough in the first few scenes, Alice has some way of explaining why she suspects that her blonde, boyish look is burning in their mutual bank account behind her married eyes. She has a kind of sexual obligation, the motives of which are not necessarily of interest to Mackereras, who omits any moment so that Alice may suspect her husband.
He owed about ০ 700,000, and had taken an arrow against the mortgage on the apartment, realizing that he had gone blind. Alice and her mother, who have the nerve to advise, “McCarras made some simple but effective points about how the system enables male abuse,” perhaps because she felt something wasn’t working at home. “
The prostitute was making a direct attack on the Alice Madonna-whore dual-standard in her unrealistic leap to become a prostitute – which ruined her marriage: Fran :ois failed to recognize her true potential as a partner, although wealthy clients blamed the loss. Standing for, awkwardly awkward newbie So. This is not a job. Alice is forced to find a prophet every time she goes out and she is so inexperienced that her first encounter is frustrating and humorous.
There’s nothing particularly sexy about the McCarras hotel sessions, where Alice maintains her underwear and makes dirty men’s dirty, pissed-off skin clear that she’s not doing it for her own pleasure. Others, such as Lisa (Chloe Boreham), were the ones who showed her the rope. Everything looks a bit safer in the depiction of “Alice’s” sex work, and perhaps it’s with a certain client – although the “hostlers” paint a very different picture of the kind of sick owner that some rich boy brings to the table. These liaison zones are about strength, and through Lisa’s lessons, Alice has learned how to be a boss in this situation.
After several days of disappearance, Frances appears in Alice’s life. He apologizes, but the dynamic between them cannot go back as before. Both Piponnier and Swabi bring almost childlike qualities to their performances: at first glance they don’t seem mature enough to be married, and as they enter this challenging, completely unexpected chapter of the relationship we see her evolve (drunk, petulant, childish) ) And its blossoming has never happened before.
Piponnier has great brown eyes, which through subtlety implies that insecurity and excitement come in its exciting new way with it Here, through those windows, we see a glimpse of a piece of that “Belly de Jor” disaster. “Alice” ends very soon, which, in a hurry and feels free as soon as it’s over, avoids virtually all the conflicts that the movie’s vision promises. But keep in mind that Mackeres, who is Australian, chose to deal with such a risky film abroad on his own terms, and cutting a few corners to make it is part of imagining what he is selling.