The Cineman ::: Redux

Similar to the controversy of 70s erotic paramount ‘Last Tango in Paris‘ – an uncontrollably poor example which has not stood the test of time – Liliana Cavani’s ‘The Night Porter‘ decides to hit two birds with one stone. A blunt stone, that is; Cavani’s production tackles the sadomasochistic relationship between a former SS officer and a concentration camp survivor. Roger Ebert would call this ‘Nazi chic’, and yes, the definition of love between our protagonists is warped in a perceivably sensationalist way. But Cavani, unlike Bertolucci, gives the audience frames of reference to judge the character’s actions – rather than letting their psyches cavort in a literal fashion. No butter here, just shattered glass. Max (Dick Bogarde) works as a night porter in Austria, while his former Nazi comrades are clearing his record for an upcoming war crimes trial. But when Lucia (Charlotte Rampling) checks in with his American conductor-husband for a performance of ‘Die Zauberflöte’, their timely reunion strikes nerves. But trouble boils when Max’s comrades zero in on Lucia’s existence, and Max and Lucia begin to close themselves off from the world to save their twisted affair.

Cavani’s film has the unpolished feel of an Italian import – poor dubbing and choppy editing, with the exception of top-bill acting. Bogarde’s solicitous Max is a heartbreaking mess of a man – a poor choice of creed, heavy-handed misogyny, and an unshaking chemistry with Rampling. Rampling’s trangressive yet infantile approach to Lucia may have garnered attention from art circles in ‘74, but her Stockholm syndrome performance is both heartbreaking and provoking. But where does the film go wrong? Maybe it’s the “fateful lovers” ending that comes across like a poor-man’s Truffaut, maybe the shock value of dry ice torture and love-making. But it’s not strictly exploitative like ‘Ilsa: She-Wolf of the SS‘ – it’s a love story, just with an uncomfortable change of scenery.

[***]