There’s a distinct promise that comes with a film of the martial arts genre. High octane sword splicing and garish violence; it’s the kind of cinema to make the bloodthirsty giddy. But when you hear who’s behind The Assassin, it should come as no surprise to find that it carries that notorious label rather lightly. Advertisements
The memory’s of Disney lovers are emblazoned with some of cinema’s most unforgettable images: the stormy sea battles of love in The Little Mermaid. Or Simba wandering through billowing dust to find his father lying motionless in The Lion King. It’s the bittersweet tragedy now synonymous with the period known as ‘the Disney Renaissance’ – the time that holds some of the studio’s most significant and adored films.
This review is from Love’s world premiere at the 68th Festival de Cannes Gaspar Noé bounded down the red carpet last night like a child; filled with excitement to deliver his ‘3D sex epic’ as it has been labelled, to its first audience. There was rapturous applause at the credits; standing ovations, tears and a yell of “Ça c’est le cinema putain! (This isn’t whoreish cinema)”. To be fair to the bold lady in hysterics, she’s right. Love may be visceral and enjoy a slight dash of serious smut, but the film isn’t as provocative as everyone had initially thought. Love isn’t crafted entirely from sex; it has an underlying dramatic relationship study that Noé has blatantly put second.