Another frank look at sexuality. Patrice Chéreau’s first English-language movie, shot in London, is about a man and a woman who meet weekly for sex. No strings attached, no words exchanged.After a while, the man needs more understanding, more of a connection, so he sets out to learn something about her life. (She moonlights as an acting coach and an actress, currently performing “The Glass Menagerie” at a local pub, and is married with a young son.) Intimacy is something of the middle-aged obsession with prurience, much like I am Curious (Yellow). Based on Hanif Kureishi’s “Intimacy” and “Night Life,” the movie itself, wrapped and trapped by the emotional fluctuations of the story, is a frazzled and haywire experience, and the loose and herky-jerky, spinning nature of the camerawork don’t help; it makes everything feel that much more unstable. The madness that Jay drives himself to, thereby forcing the viewer to endure it as well, is a heavy frustration and an unwelcome one. Chéreau isn’t shy about nudity either, featuring shots of an erect penis (belonging to Rylance, it should be no new challenge to do frontal nudity after collaborating with Peter Greenaway on several occasions), but the sex is actually a lot tamer than they want you to think. It isn’t very explicit — no penetration is ever seen — and it’s mostly a lot of heavy grunting and grabbing.
With Mark Rylance, Kerry Fox, Timothy Spall and Alastair Galbraith.[Not to be bothered with.]