Ryan McNeil
There’s a tendency to look at people who have a liberal attitude towards sex and judge them. “There’s something wrong with them” the rest of us may think “Something amoral, something uncaring, something cold”. Perhaps though, that isn’t the case. Perhaps these people – male and female – aren’t ignoring a set of rules the rest of us all play by, so much as they are trying to understand where they fit within the game. Perhaps they know something the rest of us don’t, or perhaps they’re still trying to figure it out. No matter what the answer, these people who are not subscribing to fidelity and monogamy catch our attention. Perhaps it’s because we’re judging them…or perhaps it’s because we’re jealous of them.
The first volume of NYMPHOMANIAC begins with our heroine Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) face down and beaten in an abandoned back alley. She is happened upon by a man named Selligman (Stellan Skarsgård), who insists on bringing her to his home in order for her to get rest and medical attention. As he tends to her, he asks her who she is and how she found herself in such a predicament. Joe tells him that it’s a long story.
Joe is the daughter of well-to-do parents (and as a younger woman, she’s portrayed by Stacy Martin). Her father (Christian Slater) was far more nurturing than her mother, trying hard to instil into his daughter the beauty and value of the natural world. However, even from an early age, Joe’s predominant fascination with the natural world focused only on one thing. Indeed, much of her story is spurred and driven by her insatiable appetite for sex.
Breaking her history into chapters, she tells Selligman about her life bit by bit.
She begins by discussing how she lost her virginity by way of cold mathematical mechanics to a neighbour named Jerôme (Shia LaBeouf). She then goes on to underline how that led her to band together with her friends and seek out sexual conquests free of emotional attachments. This goal specifically led her to an afternoon on a train where she and a friend competed to fuck the most men before reaching their destination. When she grew a little older and went searching for her first job, her path once again crossed with Jerôme, leading to an obsession to be with him only. When it turned out that wasn’t to be, she buries that obsession under a neverending string of sexual conquests – including one particularly memorable one with a married man.
In the end though, it comes back to Jerôme, and the way he fulfills a particular sexual need for Joe…at least for a while.
When one sits down to watch a film like NYMPHOMANIAC, one arrives with certain preconceptions. We believe we are in for something shameful, something daunting, something enticing, something…dirty. The stories that we were told from the film’s production only stoked the fire – such as the revelation that porn actors would be used for scenes involving sex acts (meaning that what we’d be watching would be real). While some of those preconceptions are real, there are also some unexpected results we feel along the way. We get humour, we get sorrow, we get shame, and we get breathtaking beauty. What begins as a “dirty little movie” soon expands into an entire life history focused through the lens of sex, leading to an extraordinary film.
This first volume is the one determined to stretch our legs. It wants us to listen to the lion’s share of Joe’s history and get an understanding of how it has shaped her. We need to understand that she got her grasp on sex early on, and that it would seldom be an expression of love. Instead, it spurred her to be different things to different people – which is something we all do, just probably without the benefit of an orgasm thrown in. As we listen to Gainsbourg recount it with cold precision, we’re left groping for our own answers. How can sex with so many mean so little to this person? How can it have brought her feelings of shame, sorrow, and guilt, but seldom joy? And what does it say about us that we’re listening to all of these dirty dirty stories, and hoping she keeps them coming?
There’s an interesting duality to Joe’s confessions. On the one hand, there’s a stripe of confusion and shame to what she reveals. It’s as if she knows that everything she is telling us are actions and details that will make us blush or make us scoff. She knows she must tread carefully since we won’t be able to relate to her tale. However, at the same time, there is a bold bluntness in her voice. An unapologetic tone that knows that if she were a man telling these stories, that there would be different reactions and different judgements. This double-standard isn’t of concern to Joe, though it certainly will remain in play as this story continues. Instead what we get when we watch Charlotte Gainsbourg try to navigate these opposing sides is a beautiful contradiction.
Her story is equal parts contrition and exultation, and like so many sexual actions it is completely up to its audience to decide how it affects them.
This is a film that at first blush seems as though it’s all about the visual – which makes perfect sense since for so very many, sex begins with visual enticement. The movie even underscores that by unspooling some truly striking visuals designed to elicit all sorts of reactions. However, I believe the key to the entire film lays in its opening moments – a black screen that forces its audience to listen to the sounds of rain on the soundtrack. All of the sexual imagery that the film unfurls and inspires seems designed to entice…but it’s only when we concentrate and listen that we’ll get to the heart of the matter. Only then will we understand what all of this sexual discussion is truly trying to teach us.
To fully understand the lesson though, we’ll have to endure another two hours.
After viewing this I looked at a blank page for days not able to place my thoughts and impressions down.
After a while I realized I had to watch part 2 to give voice to my impressions and even then I am not sure what I will see, feel or conclude. Your review helps, bravo Ryan!
I ended up breaking my review into two halves because I had so much to say. The two parts feel so different, with this one taking on so much of a lighter tone. While it leaves things off rather suddenly, I do feel like it tells its own story too.
Still – I hear ya. It would be hard to write about this half if I didn’t have the other half to inform my opinions.
When you get a chance, listen to the podcast episode we just put up – we talk about both films in one epic discussion!