User reviews

The film stunned me when I saw it in the cinema some 45 years ago and I'm not sure I have braved it since unless I watched some murky video. So much has happened in cinema since that first viewing that it is no longer quite so shocking but still packs a punch. Beautifully shot, there are lovely shots of Paris and the light upon the walls of the apartment but there is ugliness too and there is never a moment one can relax confident that all will be well. Brando is brilliant, if slightly awkward and Maria Schneider does well to keep up in English, French and broken English. As the two mismatched individuals merge together into some sort of passionate but loveless relationship we learn something of the background. Essentially, Brando is bereft following the suicide of his wife, right at the start and Schneider has a much more conventional, if barely believable one with an aspiring film maker. He is played by Jean-Pierre Leaud, he star of many New Wave films, particularly for Godard and Truffault and it would seem that Bertolucci is having a little fun here pitting the pretty boy of trendy 60s cinema against the old brawler Brando (I understand though that Leaud was so intimidated by the American giant that he could not work alongside him). I noticed this time that the soundtrack I have always loved seems to begin and finish rather abruptly at certain points of the film and it seems I may have found the reason. Apparently there is, or was, a four hour rough cut of the film and that it was this that Gato Barbieri studied in order to decide where the film required music. Seems reasonable, therefore, to suppose that when the film was cut by almost a half, the music may no longer slip so unobtrusively in and out.

Bernardo Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris is like any other piece of art; You get out of it only as much as you put into it. Many people saw this movie in the 1970's (and still see it today) as being pornography and nothing else. Others viewed it and took note of Brando's performance (how could you not?!?), and noticed much, much more than a mere "skin flick." Personally, I find it to be a very important piece of art. Why? Because it broke barriers! In art, barriers only exist so that they may be broken, and I know that sounds like some "liberal artsy BS," but I think it's true. Artists are always trying to get down to the basics of human existence, and, unfortunately, it's not always pretty. This film, I believe, portrays a few elements of the human experience. Passion is the first. Then, facades, our need to defend ourselves from vulnerability. Also, the film tries to show the circular nature of our lives (things end only to begin again). The passion is expertly exposed through the savage brutality that Brando brings to the performance, as only he knew how to. Many argue that this was Brando's finest performance, and I can see why. I don't know if I could ever pick one performance of his and say it was his best, but this would easily, easily be a prime candidate. In Last Tango in Paris, Marlon Brando pulls out all of the stops, almost abusing his freedom in the role. Yet, this is where the film gets truly intriguing. Is this an act? It is, at least in name, a performance, but, how much of it is a performance, and how much is a stream of consciousness therapy session? I have never seen an actor pour so much of himself out before a camera. Watching it, I couldn't help but wonder, "What must be going on behind his eyes?" How can a man reveal so much of who he is, knowing that it is being filmed to be viewed by millions? Brando's "performance" forces the audience to question is Marlon Brando the performer or the performance. We'll never know. Perhaps he didn't know. Perhaps that is how he could pull off the monumental performance that he did. It is quite possibly the greatest performance I have ever seen. The fact that I have to wonder whether his character, Paul, is the truth or an image is only testament to Brando's power. As far as the circular nature of things, we see a role-reversal between Maria Schneider and Marlon Brando. At the beginning, it is Brando who is confused, lost, driven mad by the toll that a past love has taken on him. Yet, at the end of the film, it is Schneider's Jeanne who cares not about names, identity, and personal histories. Her life is committed to distance and emotional isolation. Her mind has confined itself to that little apartment where intimacy knew no bounds, except the publicity of a painful outside world. A million questions could be asked about these two central characters. What was going on in their minds? Who was more fragile, the tormented Paul, or the seemingly carefree Jeanne? Who controlled the relationship? Was there control? Was there a relationship? This film, like all other great films, leaves us asking questions, not only about the characters we've seen, but about the characters we portray on a daily basis.

I'm thinking of "Last Tango in Paris" today because Neznaia, a kind IMDb user, asked me to write about it and I promised I would. Now a dilemma. Shall I write as I remember the experience or shall I watch it again? Well I'm already here so I seem to have taken a decision. Butter, that was the key word that pushed crowds to line up outside the theaters all over the world. Over the years the film has been vilified as utter euro trash or acclaimed as one of the best films ever made. I think that the truth falls somewhere in the middle. Bertolucci was coming out of at least two certified masterpieces of political, social and cinematic achievement "Before the Revolution" and "The Conformist". Tango is something else altogether, cinema veritè photographed by Vittorio Storaro, a revolutionary artistic genius, Gato Barbieri's music and Marlon Brando giving himself totally in one of the most brilliant pieces of self indulgence ever put on film. Within the intellectual coldness of its intentions breaths a stunning melodrama of operatic proportions. As a side note let me tell you that legend has it that in the original script, the Maria Schnaider's character, was a boy. At the time an idea of the sort was too outrageous to even consider. Everybody was very sophisticated but not that sophisticated. Apparently the movie went on with a girl in the part but not even a coma was changed from the original. Now, look at the film again with that in mind and you will notice that everything, as if by magic, makes perfect sense. We are ask to justify Brando's first wild approach to Schnaider was an irrational reaction to the pain, the anger and confusion by his wife death. Well yes, but he is a man, she is a woman, they may be braking a few rules but the basics remain intact, unless, of course she wasn't a she. If they are a man and a girl above the age of consent why the charade of secrecy? Why she's never really dressed like a girl, always jackets and open neck shirts and why they never make love like a man and a woman, usually, do? A lot of fingers and butter and,talk. When they get to the tango scene Brando dances with a real woman while Maria Schnaider monkeys around them. And finally look at the end and tell me if doesn't make much more sense if she was a he. She could have explained everything, embarrassing perhaps I don't know, but perfectly normal. If she was a he, the son of a military man, the thing had an entirely different color. Impossible to admit or to explain for a boy. Their affair is not between two gay man but between two heterosexuals. That's the key, that's at the center of it all. A breaking of rules in the most intimate way. To go against what you have come to accept as your own nature. I may be wrong of course, but I don't think so. I will see it again as soon as I can and if I feel that this memory of the film is merely a product of what I may have been smoking at the time I will let you know. But, somehow, I don't think I will have to.

Okay, so I am not supposed to say anything about other user's comments, but I should mention that reading those comments is what lead me to write this...I don't know if this is an enjoyable movie experience, but it is nonetheless a triumph of cinema.

This film has very little to do with sex. It also has very little to do with the tango, and we might want to add it has little to do with Paris. Someone once told me this movie is about an American businessman. Out of curiosity, are all American's traveling in Europe businessmen? I think not. First of all, he was a boxer, a bongo player, he married a wealthy woman, but nowhere did I see this man as working for some corporation. This man had little money, and he didn't need a 'serious' career.

This film is about abuse; a parable about the overly masculine father who sexually abuses his own son; a child abused by his alcoholic parents; a widower who is abused by his animalistic but deadly honest wife. This movie is about a religious zealot for a mother-in-law in constant denial who shows more interest in her daughter's corpse than in her life. This movie is about an idealistic no-longer teenager who perhaps finds true love the only time in her life, but pays a terrible price. It is as though she has bitten from the forbidden fruit and found that love is an illusion.

To say Brando is superb misses the point. I simply know no other actor that could have pulled this off. His facial expressions are uncanny. It is a most fitting bookend to Street Car Named Desire. One simply cannot deny the final elevator scene. But unlike Streetcar, Brando portrays a vivid understanding of the sensitivity towards women and towards human existence that few men are capable of grasping, and few women could probably appreciate. Brando is himself. But Brando is himself because he understands his character, not because he plays himself.

This movie is an existential parody of the nature of society. It is a bitter reflection of human frailty and vanity. It is a tragedy of a man who has actually found a way to transcend his own suffering, who has somehow managed to cut through the illusions that all of us carry day-to-day. But with that knowledge, he finds himself utterly alone (as so many users here seem testament.)

Bernardo Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris simultaneously mocks and mourns the human yearning for love and companionship. The movie is a requiem for unrequited love, and a testament to the proclivity of humans to surrogate love with lust when trapped in a maelstrom of despondence, chagrin, and compunction. Bertolucci's purpose is not to glorify carnality as a virtue or to scorn it as a vice, but is to use it as an instrument to authenticate the veritable existence of a dark, ugly, and bestial side of humanity, which is so often suppressed and hypocritically denied in similar works on the subject. Bertolucci's penchant for art is limitless and he uses it to full effect in order to give the movie an aesthetic feel while simultaneously catering to the movie's explorative, earthy, and unconventionally bold motifs. Bertolucci uses his characters uncannily as a medium to foray into unexplored realms of human psyche while unflinchingly projecting them as objects of desire, disgust and depravity. Bertolucci pushes Brando and Schneider to a limit where they are not only forced to compromise their egos but also relinquish their pride, and I say that not as an offence but as an appreciation for his talent as a movie-maker. Renowned film critic Pauline Kael bestowed the film with the most ecstatic endorsement of her career, writing, "Tango has altered the face of an art form. This is a movie people will be arguing about for as long as there are movies." American director Robert Altman expressed unqualified praise: "I walked out of the screening and said to myself, 'How dare I make another film?' My personal and artistic life will never be the same." Eminent critic Roger Ebert has added the film to his "Great Movies" collection.

The movie presents an episode in the lives of two loners residing in Paris: Paul, a recently widowed, middle-aged American businessman, and Jeanne, a young, voluptuous, soon-to-be-married Parisian girl. The two accidentally meet up in an empty apartment available for rent, and a steamy affair ensues between the two on strictly anonymous basis. Paul is very discreet about his identity and whereabouts and even cajoles Jeanne to religiously follow the protocol. Paul sees Jeanne as a carnal surrogate for his deceased wife, while Jeanne finds in Paul a lover which her fiancé could never become. The two continue to meet and serve each other at regular intervals while also going about their regular business. Their sexually charged up affair, despite a disconnect at the emotional level, satiates them both beyond expectations, and resonates to the viewer an ineffable sense of frenzy and euphoria that holds him in a vice-like grip for the entire length of the movie. The dramatically botched, anti-climactic ending of the movie, which has been snubbed by critics, still manages to testify the axiomatic consistency of change in packing a punch stronger than the modern-day gimmicks.

Marlon Brando gives an inciteful, poignant, tour de force performance as the reclusive widower. Many people called Brando a chameleon, but I would call him a chameleon who hated his camouflage; a prodigy who detested his talent; a narcissist who abhorred himself for being a mortal. Brando as Paul is a cross between a sadist and a masochist. He uses every ounce of his talent to conjure up his menacing alter-ego. Driven by guilt and chagrin, Paul's sociopathic self is a nightmare for those around him. Roger Ebert wrote about Brando's performance: "It's a movie that exists so resolutely on the level of emotion, indeed, that possibly only Marlon Brando, of all living actors, could have played its lead. Who else can act so brutally and imply such vulnerability and need?" The scene in which Paul confronts the dead body of his wife, who has committed suicide, is probably the most powerful scene ever filmed in cinema. It not only depicts the complexities associated with Paul's character but also highlights the dichotomy he suffered owing to his dual emotions of rage and grief.

Maria Schneider is innocent, charming, voluptuous and pitiful in her portrayal of Jeanne, a Parisian girl whose life is devoid of true love. Schneider, being fully aware of her limitations as an actor, incredibly manages to give a performance that is singular and effective enough not to be adumbrated by Brando's sublime, over-the-top portrayal.

The cinematography of the movie is vivid, elaborative, and expressive and is well complemented by the movie's sensuously evocative background score.

PS. Last Tango in Paris is a profoundly disturbing case-study of human emotions and is a must for cineastes worldwide, but can only be savoured by eschewing bigotry, prejudice, and conservatism. 9/10

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A tired middle aged American businessman encounters a young woman while flat hunting in Paris; and starts a torrid affair with her.

One of the those movies that more people have heard about than seen and probably works better that way. While certainly sexually frank, even today, it is far too European art house for most tastes.

The plot idles, stops and jerks like a country milk train, leaving so many questions unanswered that you have to write half the script in your own head to get through it.

Brando's portrait of a man that seems torn between falling in love and falling under a bus is certainly unique. Especially as most viewers and critics had concluded that he had already shown his full hand of cards. In contrast co-star Schnieder is amazing in being able to put together a performance from so little. Indeed she is just an inflated muse, who the film seems little interested in.

My problem with the film is that it is about emptiness, depression and alienation; but there is so much of it about anyway (and always has been, just turn on the news!) that going looking for in cinema seems pointless. The sex is not really sexy, merely people trying to enliven their dull lives not unlike people who take drugs to achieve the same. If there is romance here, it can only be seen as a sadomasochistic romance played out among damaged people.

LTIP is certainly a milestone picture, if only for Brando's totally open and no holds barred performance, but it leaves far too many question unanswered to be anything like a classic. Indeed this is merely an exercise in mood, tempo and design and was a box office hit because people had not seen frank sexuality on the screen like this before.

The world of sex-on-film has moved on so much since this was released that today's audience will not have a clue what caused the press headlines. Indeed many will be yawning through the famous scenes that once shocked a generation...

Schneider's looks can dutifully encapsulate my true emotions to this film. Occasionally she looks sexy and encaptivating, other times she can look too pale and a little bland. That's exactly how Bertolucci's helping of sexual cravings had me feeling after this film.

Habitually, Bertolucci's work eclipses genius - he is one of the few directors in world cinema that has an eye for definitive detail. He can capture such beautiful images, with such great vision, emotion, colour and panache that the viewer's sentiments are guided like few others in film-making. Like aforementioned, Schneider's face would be the perfect simile for this particular film. One scene the viewer is startled by the raw depth of the film, although slightly troubled by the explicit sex, but then all the viewer is treated to in the next scene is a terse and awkward moment which seems to have no correlation with the one that preceded it.

Naturally Brando's performance did help boost this film greatly, but that seems the film's very weakness - whenever he is off-camera it seems to struggle too much, it loses its power and prestige and becomes a little incoherent. This film undoubtedly has some powerful and poignant scenes that really can convey genuine sentiment and exude a tangible originality too; but it never really seems to shake off the loss of Brando's presence altogether.

For admirers of Bertolucci its a must, but for more neutral cineastes it would be advisable to have a more cautious approach when watching this film - to enjoy it, it would be paramount to expect this film to be an edifying, not an entertaining experience; its not a frivolous subject matter in any sense

Bernando Bertolucci's film, 'Last Tango in Paris', was originally famous for its graphic description of anal sex. Although still unpleasant, such portrayals are less rare now than then. But in other ways too, the film still seems modern, with its multi-layered structure and post-modern self awareness (one of the subplots of the film involves some of the characters making their own film, and about themselves). This dialogue is daringly quatra-lingual: it varies between native English, native French, French English and American French (as its two protagonists, Marlon Brando and Maria Schneider, talk to each other alternately in their two languages). Brando was still pretty then, and Bertolucci spends a lot of time just letting the light fall onto his face in different ways, a technique revisited by Coppola in 'Apocalypse Now'.

But for all this, I am not so sure that this is a good film. Neither main character is very sympathetic, Brando a self-obsessed bully, while Schneider's mannequin-like qualities certainly date the film (as does the ugly jazzy score, which is not ineffective per se but which continually grates on the ear). The film as a whole is also self-obsessed, Brando has an interesting back story but the film concentrates on the sexual and frankly I just didn't care enough about their games. 'Last Tango in Paris' remains a challenging film, but its basic idea - that our true selves are laid bare in the sexual act - is (true or not) not really that cinematic. Worth watching, but not very much fun.

Pauline Kael once famously described Last Tango as the most emotionally gratifying film she had ever seen in her 20 years as a film critic. I have not been a film critic for 20 years (I'm not even 19, the age Maria Schneider was when she played Jeanne). I have not seen more films than there are stars in the sky. But I can agree that this is a film that is groundbreaking in the ways most people don't expect: it so nakedly lays open the life of a broken man in all his flaws and his pain and self-loathing. The genius is that we'll never know if it was Marlon Brando exposing his own vulnerability or the greatest trick Houdini never pulled.

The plot is so simple it borders on preposterous: haunted American widower Paul meets young Parisian Jeanne by chance and together they rent an apartment where they engage in anonymous sex. Those who only know the film by this brief synopsis or its notorious reputation might believe the controversy and fail to look past it. Last Tango is not about sex and it's certainly not about butter. The sex scenes were not merely slapped on to make more money at the box office, for they show simultaneously Paul's release, his grief, his hunger, his rage, his last desperate attempt to reach out to another person. Marlon Brando inhabits this so greatly and personally it's impossible to imagine anyone else in this role with the same feeling of release. From the first frame you see Brando it's so unbearably evident that his face, scarred with age, tells a thousand stories of loneliness. Ironically, it's only through sex with a perfect stranger that he's able to find himself again.

That's essentially what this story is about: loneliness, identity (or loss of it), and, in a strange way, love. More than any director I was reminded of Nicholas Ray, whose own violently poignant film In a Lonely Place bears some resemblance: both films center on a middle-aged man whose troubled existence is briefly calmed when he falls in love and ultimately ends in doom. Like Ray, Bertolucci frames his film meticulously, with shots though mirrors, windows and doorways to convey a sense of loss and emptiness in the large and cheerless apartment, something of a haven from the outside world and the people who inhabit it. Only inside is where Paul and Jeanne can begin to comprehend the lonely places of their hearts.

So much praise has been lavished on Brando it seems unfair to exclude Maria Schneider, whose life was haunted after doing this movie. She's a child aware of her body and her affect on men, but unable to understand why she is in this situation and how she got herself there, and Schneider plays this with such a devastating honesty. But in the end, the film, the audience, and Bertolucci are all more interested in Paul than Jeanne, and for good reasons. Brando gives such ferocity with the simplest of gestures. Usually one can pick the most emotional scene of the film and mark it as the high point, proof of an actor's genius. I suppose that that one scene is when Paul visits the corpse of his deceased wife. First he rages at her, then he breaks down. Though a great scene, every single moment that Brando is on film is a great scene. At once he's insane (I mean that in the best way possible), he's humorous, he's angry, he's sad, he's broken. Paul goes through nearly every single emotion possible, and Brando somehow makes it seem like he was experiencing it himself. Brando told Bertolucci after filming had ended that he put so much of himself into the role that he couldn't imagine doing something as harrowing ever again.

He never did.

A man is so distraught over the death of his wife that he rapes a stranger. This being a French film, she not only doesn't file charges, but also keeps returning to him for more action. Brando is always worth watching and he has some fine moments here, but can't overcome the shortcomings of a poorly written character and Bertolucci's generally rambling and pretentious script. Schneider does OK in her film debut. The subplot involving her relationship with Leaud is uninteresting. The dialog is in French and English. It is unfortunate that the subscripts disappear when they speak English because her English is hard to understand and he mumbles a lot.

Widely denounced as obscene upon its release and unjustifiably notorious for two of its scenes, Bernardo Bertolucci's 'Last Tango in Paris' is a savage story of lust and sexual debasement.

Marlon Brando delivers a ferocious performance as Paul, a middle-aged American expatriate tormented by his wife, Rosa's recent suicide, her infidelities and his failure to understand their relationship. In meeting a 20 year old girl, Jeanne, played by Maria Schneider, in an empty apartment, Paul hopes to form a relationship purely on his own terms and at his own pace, i.e. one he can understand fully. He insists on a new form of relationship, so basic that even their names were kept secret from each other, where she submitted to his every desire, where he could punish himself and relieve his despair and anger towards his wife by punishing Jeanne. Paul's only other interest is in Marcel (Massimo Girotti), Rosa's lover, for whom he has a curious respect and maybe a desire to obtain through him a better understanding of his own wife.

Despite his overpowering talent, Marlon Brando has often shown poor judgement in his choice of projects and has frequently trudged through films with no apparent effort or interest. In 'Last Tango in Paris' he gives everything and produces a performance of unrivalled force. Unfortunately the obvious improvisation in the film prevents the character of Paul from staying within check as he gradually becomes too much like Marlon Brando in the second half of the film. Nonetheless, when Brando is off-screen the film becomes hollow in comparison and is replaced by Jeanne's relationship with her fiance, an annoyingly pretentious TV director (Jean-Pierre Leaud).

This is a truly unique film and Bertolucci successfully highlights the romance in an affair that is fundamentally destructive. Brando's performance is remarkably powerful and intense, eclipsing every other player and dominating the entire film.

Bernardo Bertoluci's "Last Tango in Paris" is a beautiful art-house movie that features one of Marlon Brando's finest performances. He plays Paul, an enigmatic American drawn to France after the recent suicide of his wife. While there, he encounters Jeanne, whom he soon begins to have an affair with. However, they do not reveal anything about themselves and the relationship is based solely on sex.

Jeanne is engaged to Tom, a film director making a documentary of sorts about her. She questions her own love for Tom as she finds herself more and more drawn to Paul.

"Last Tango in Paris" or "Ultimo tango a Parigi" was released in 1972 to much hoopla. Critics loved it but the American censors despised it and it somehow gained a reputation of being a "smut film." It's actually a deep and provocative statement about two people from different backgrounds who fall in love despite trying not to. Their anonymity with each other only makes it all the more difficult.

Brando delivers a stunning performance and Maria Schneider is quite convincing in what must have been a very demanding role.

This isn't a flawless film but it is very good and offers more than just the average "t&a" the genre has come to be known for.

"Last Tango in Paris" has been copied a few times over the years - most noticeably with films such as "9 1/2 Weeks" and "Intimacy." However, this is still one of the best "erotic" dramas out there.

First things first. Brando and Bertolucci sexually assaulted Maria Schneider. There's no getting around this, and both men should have faced consequences for that. Having said that, I hope the people who gave this movie a '1' because of that are doing the same on all of Roman Polanski's films. Just because the rape he perpetrated didn't happen on film, doesn't mean it wasn't every bit as bad, or worse. With that out of the way, my perspective watching this film now, outside of the historical context in which it was released, shows the film as being about a very, very stupid man. Whether that was what was intended or not, I don't know. I can certainly understand a guy acting irrational after his wife's suicide, but that's what I got. The intensity of Paul and Jeanne's sexual relationship was something that wasn't seen much on screen at that time. At least not in "respectable" movies, and I think that the film's reputation has become inflated by the fact that people were seeing a "real" movie about sex. And as such, it is significant for being one of the first films in which sex - not just the fact that the characters have sex, but HOW they have sex - is the organizing principle. Brando does a terrific job of showing how this affects Paul. The problem is that as talented an actor as Brando was, Paul is just extremely unappealing. He's headstrong, self-deluded, impulsive, and just not very smart. Whether this was intended or was though of as smart at the time, I don't know. So, in a nutshell, I think that the film's reputation is overinflated because it happened to be a movie about sex at a time when people were really wanting something like that. The movie itself is a good, but not great story, effectively told, but hardly the work of utter genius that you see a lot of reviewers proclaiming.

My favourite Bertolucci film along with The Last Emperor, Last Tango in Paris is something truly remarkable. It is controversial yes in how sex was displayed on screen. But it is also beautiful and touching not just as a psychodrama but also a study of a broken and tortured man. Instead of erotic, to me it came across as more existential, and I had nothing against that, in fact I wouldn't have minded whether it was erotic or existential or neither.

Last Tango is beautifully shot, with artful cinematography, interesting lighting and stunning production values. Gato Barbieri's jazz score is marvellous and creates a suitably delirious atmosphere. The story is a beautifully written and emotional one, the script is of exceptional quality and Bertolucci's direction is of high calibre. The acting from the two leads is superb. It is a real shame Maria Schneider died as young as she died, she showed great promise, and here she was sexy and touching and she looked stunning too. For me, the best asset of Last Tango in Paris was the performance of Marlon Brando. He is both wonderful and devastating in the lead and shows quite a lot of range in this film, one minute he is ferocious and vulgar, next he is tender and full of pathos.

All in all, wonderful film and worth seeing for Brando's performance especially, amongst other things. 10/10 Bethany Cox

Maybe at the time this movie came out it was considered an arty, deep movie that examined the sexual relationship of its two stars but I think it has not aged well. I considered the movie rather pretentious and the leads, Brando and Maria Schneider, were not really that appealing enough to care about. Maria Schneider played the sex object and admittingly she was a hot babe with a wonderful body but that was all she was. She seemed a rather confused, spoiled young girl that got involved in an, at times brutal, sexual relationship with a man who would be called, in today's parlance, abusive. Brando was a bully in this movie almost raping Maria Schneider in the beginning and verbally abusing an older woman later. The mother of his dead wife came to bury her daughter and Brando was so cruel to her that she raised her arms in defense to ward off a blow. She may have been a pain in the butt to Brando but I think his character's treatment of her was unjustifiably mean. He was also a bully towards Maria Schneider's character. Maybe this tone was acceptable at the time but I found it distasteful. Possibly the ending was justified given this tone. Brando did give some fine performances is some scenes especially during his talk with his wife's corpse. Unfortunately overall the movie failed for me because I never really developed any empathy for the leads. Brando did elicited some sympathy for his grief but his character was too cruel to really care about. Maria Schneider is not that great an actress and her character was too dippy and immature to care about. I only wanted her to disrobe. For that she was cast perfectly.

The movie is above brilliant. It leaves you impressed for days, and when the impression starts to fade, you watch it again. And again... Why do I find this movie so special? Because it is. It is a refreshment: it can move you, make you wonder, make you dream - of Paris, of destroying passion, of love which is above the ordinary, of places and people you have yet to meet or yet never to meet... It is a movie of passionate imagination coming true. I have to say that I can't believe people see the sex-scenes in this movie just like any other sex scenes. They're not scenes to make people watch the movie and just wait for the part in which Brando and Schneider have sex. It is amazing sex. It is passion. Strange and exotic fruit. Makes you speechless and addicted. But yet, it is bittersweet... Watch the movie, it is a genuine a work of art, a masterpiece of European cinematography, and I also have to point out- the music from the movie is brilliant, jazz, tango... sabor suave y delicioso :)

"Last Tango in Paris" was a Brando film that took a while to get to. It was also a film that felt like I couldn't give justice to without feeling mentally "ready" and mature to interpret and accept the film the way it might be intended. While the film had its incredible moments, I was ultimately disappointed with the experience.

First and obviously, Brando is phenomenal. Done.

Second, there are moments of pure erotic steam and emotional epicness but these moments don't seem to last as long as necessary and they don't feel incredibly significant to the overall film's theme and arc. It's difficult to pinpoint what the film was really trying to explore and say due to an imbalance in tone from scene to scene. One scene where the two leads talk to each other for a while really hit home but there were too many moments of confusing actions that made it difficult to understand who theses characters actually were.

Technically, I thought the editing was all over the place and the score often beats the audience over the head with one singular emotion without any nuance. Cinematography, for the most part, was mesmerizing but there were some blatant technical errors in sound recording and mixing.

The more I also learn about the director and the behind-the-scenes, the more the film doesn't sit right with me. It takes from an opinion of grand and mysterious eroticism to pathetic and nonsensical selfish filmmaking that did more harm than good. If only the best moments and performances of this film could be applied to a worthwhile script and director, this film could achieve a level of greatness that could never be replicated.

High on shock value, low on screenplay or meaningful dialogue or a story that makes any sense of being realistic.

Marlon Brando may have been nominated for an Oscar but he didn't win and he is not all that good here nor does he have much to work with. There are a few glimpses of greatness here and there because he can't help himself but he doesn't have a script to really pull anything that great off.

One obvious defect is he uses at least five different voices. There is his Godfather voice, his Stella voice, an English accent for one scene and one of the few times I have heard what sounds like his native Nebraska dialect.

The young actress does the best with a very difficult assignment playing Brando's love interest. The movie has them about 23 years apart though in real life the difference is almost 30 years. Brando is about 48-49 during filming.

Biggest problem in the movie is not so much the racy sex scenes but the infatuation of the director with sliminess and a fetish for making the scenes full of dirt.

Even a well choreographed ballroom dancing scene can't save this.

Decent ending sequence but this is really a waste of time.