Maîtresse
1976, France, Directed by Barbet Schroeder
Colour, Running Time: 113 minutes
DVD, Region 1, Criterion, Video: Anamorphic 1.66:1, Audio: Mono
Two door-to-door ‘art book’ salesmen (well, this is France), manage to get into the apartment of Ariane, an apparently normal woman whose bath is overflowing. Later on they’re snooping around the floor below (which Ariane claims is empty) and are perplexed to find some strange paraphernalia: 10 inch heel boots, rubber masks, gas masks, whips, rubber suits, a naked man in a cage (believe it or not, this isn’t Elton John’s place), etc. They’re interrupted by Ariane, all dressed up and ready to beat the caged guy - she seems to keep the lower level as some kind of dungeon. Trapped by her large and hungry looking dog the hapless pair are tied up and forced to watch an S&M spectacle unfold. She obviously likes Olivier (Gerard Depardieu) because she gets him to lend a hand by pissing on the face of her willing victim. Quite quickly Olivier and the Maîtresse (i.e. mistress) are pretty much falling in love and it’s not long before her double life as a dominatrix is causing all kinds of trouble between them.
An expertly shot film and obviously quite notorious given its subject matter. I find the characters difficult to identify with and therefore it leaves me a little cold, plus, the S&M scenes, whilst most would believe them to be incapable of being sexually stimulating anyway, are presented to the viewer in a rather cold and clinical way. Obviously this was Schroeder’s intention but it doesn’t help the film to find much appeal outside of critic circles. There’s also the genuine onscreen slaughtering of a horse which anyone who has any concern for animal welfare will want to forward through: Depardieu watches the killing, then walks over to the local horse meat shop, buys a slice before going home to cook and eat it - this doesn’t facilitate any love for the man. Overall a critically relevant film that’s difficult to enjoy.
Criterion present a digitally remastered, anamorphically enhanced 1.66:1 version of the film that looks amazingly sharp, clean, and boasting perfect colour schemes - it’s difficult to imagine an improvement; this is what you call a restoration. Extras are thin, with a 15 minute interview and a booklet containing an essay. Surprisingly the BBFC passed this uncut in 2003 when BFI submitted it, and not only that but the transfer was almost as good as the Criterion disc (albeit replacing the extras with inferior choices), so it will probably just come down to cost when choosing between them.