Platicsco Good story, Not enough for a whole film

Matialth Good concept, poorly executed.

Ceticultsot Beautiful, moving film.

Doomtomylo a film so unique, intoxicating and bizarre that it not only demands another viewing, but is also forgivable as a satirical comedy where the jokes eventually take the back seat.

m-sendey An opera singer Caterina Silveri (Jill Clayburgh) sets off for Italy, the moment her husband gets killed in a car accident. She is accompanied by her young, handsome son Joe (Matthew Barry) who soon grows in the habit of taking drugs. The mother begins an incestuous relationship with her lonely son so that he could overcome his addiction… This motion picture from Bernardo Bertolucci is a flabbergastingly inconsistent opus which does not shock anymore and whose composition resembles a mashed frog smeared on one's wall. The film is generally flawed owing to being lamely scripted and having the horrendous dialogues which prejudice the material even more. By re-conceiving the concept from Before the Revolution from 1964, Mr Bertolucci perchance intends to exhibit the putridity of haute bourgeoisie as well as a complicated relationship between the mother and her infant, but he fails to convey anything but cheap gestures, scenes swaying between solemnity and instants of quasi-hysterical exultations reminiscent of a bottom-drawer vaudeville, performers who turn up for no reason whatsoever, a great deal of pointless moments which do not add anything to the already muddled plot. Bertolucci seems to be smug to disclose some bond between opera and cinema, yet, to my way of thinking, the upshot is downright pathetic and deprived of essential ingredients such as likable leading figures. Instead, a viewer is constrained to sit through over two hours with two crass hedonists endeavouring to find happiness in their narcissistic lives. The flick welters in its excesses and it is only palatable once the opera sequences come in sight, unfortunately these are few and far between. The characters in la bête noire by Bertolucci are provided with no depth and constitute just furnishings in this beauteously framed film, shot by the great Vittorio Storaro. The personalities of the main heroes i.e. the opera singer and her son are contrived, unreal, but most of all, there is no chemistry in the realm of their interactions and all the protagonists do is quarrelling and making up. This repetitiveness will prove quite an ordeal for some. Ultimately, we are stranded in this vortex of soap opera seasoned with munificent portions of soap, paltry discourses, ubiquitous aimlessness and directional complacency. Towards the denouement, the opus embarks on being slightly better on account of Tomas Milian's agile performance, but it is too late to revive the already embalmed content.Jill Clayburgh is not too bad as Caterina Silveri, although her appearance in this movie does not render the things any better. Matthew Barry is the one who feels rather inexperienced in his role and as a consequence, he pronounces his lines virtually phonetically. Tomas Milian is the best member of the cast and his subtle performing infuses some realism into the frenetic work. There are some other dexterous actors e.g. Franco Citti, Alida Valli, Renato Salvatori and Roberto Benigni who almost seems to be perpetuated on the celluloid by accident, his part is very, very insignificant and unnecessary.The cinematography by Storaro is ravishingly enthralling, as always. Storaro captures the beauty of landscapes like a painter, considerately constructing the image in detail, one element after another. Notwithstanding, if you are exasperated by the dissipated narrative texture, asinine conversations, the insipid, vagabond script and you don't find the film any better than I do, you might be insufficiently attentive to his décor. The soundtrack by Ennio Morricone is not memorable at all, but it certainly unnerves and prompts some sort of foreboding.I am certain that there are people who appreciate this flick, but, as far as I am concerned, this blague does not appeal to me forasmuch as it implicates unlikable, one-dimensional characters, loads of senseless sequences, needlessly prolonged running time, contrived dialogues and the enragingly pervasive ambivalence. How to express it all in a couple of lines? At one point in the movie, Joe Silveri prepares supper for himself and his mum. Once he tastes the meal he has just cooked, he winces and utters: "God, it's awful, it sucks". This epitomises La luna for me. It genuinely sucks.

Alan Kardoff The movie starts out a bit interested with the son interested in a teenage girl his own age. Clayburgh's timid-appearing husband is killed in car crash as she is getting ready to go to Rome and sing as a diva. Matthew objects but comes along. He connects with the young girl again but this time, Matt is on cocaine. His superb voice, lovely, impetuous mother is in the limelight. She doesn't know how to handle Matt's addiction. The movie drags on in search of a plot. Clayburgh is in the wrong role and Bertolucci may have had his head in the moon while directing the picture. The Moon has great symbolism.Save your time. I am perhaps overly generous with 4*.

TimWil014-1 I actually auditioned for the role of the son when the mother was originally supposed to be played by Liv Ullman I think I read for it twice but was ultimately rejected because I looked too American in a Tom Sawyer kind of way-the boy who ended up doing it had a European quality in his face which Bertolucci wanted for the role. I saw it twice when it came out in the US, both times at the Loews Twin Cinemas. I remember it as having been gorgeously shot. The performances by Clayburgh and Barry are extremely good. Alida Valli is superb. The opera scenes were fantastic. Why isn't this out on DVD? Will we have to wait until after Bertolucci's death?

movedout There's some really heavy themes in this, most notably and controversially incest between the mother, an opera singer (the whole movie is quite operatic in the setting of Rome) and her son, a teenager slowly being sucked into a world of drugs as he slips away from his mother. It doesn't cross the line all the way, instead hovers back and forth between a loss they've shared and a promise of being together at any means, albeit not in the conventional sense.Lovely, epic music lacquers the scenery and intensity between the parent, who finds it a duty to be closer to the son thats torn between guilt and anger. Note though, that the physical incest is not as strong as the theme of emotional incest, which is usually the more pervasive of the two. It's main focus seems to be the mending of a mother-son relationship when both mother and son are wrecks to begin with. This film is quite the rarity. I bought my DVD at a garage sale. Might be Italian though, the wordings' are a bit wrecked on mine, but a splendid cover art, it's why I even noticed it underneath a clutter.It's quite a heavy subject matter to tackle, plenty for the psychoanalytical of us to ponder over. Quite typical of Bertolucci to polarise his viewers. I would agree that the film is a task especially its beginning but its fruitful with much symmetry composing the parent/child relationship regarding the inexplicable quandaries of love and sexuality. Oedipal complexities are never fully explored physically thankfully, it doesn't go the distance like "Spanking the Monkey" did but what isn't shown is much more primal and imperative than what is shown. I've read many stinging criticisms of the film and its incomparable director of trying to shock his way through the auds. But I honestly am too blind or refractory for lack of a better word to subscribe to that.Bertolucci has a fond place in my heart. As simple as this sounds, he makes films that are memorable and have something to tell us - usually about politics and human sexuality. This film is one of his earlier works and its absolutely gorgeous. Speaking of gorgeous, Jill Clayburgh shows why she's so unsung, in this she plays a woman who's so respected to everyone but yet in shambles inside. I would love to see her in more and thank god I now have something to supplant her as Ally Mcbeal's mom.