THE DUKE OBSERVES
BAISE-MOI
BAISE-MOI
There are things in this life that a fella feels secure in
assuming he ain’t ever gonna have to be faced with. When a man
makes it his life’s work for to wax hilariously about The Motion
Films, and decides that it is to be “proper” motion films, i.e.,
not porn, that he will observe in such a manner, maybe it ain’t
all that bizarre for to assume there are things he ain’t gonna
see.
He probably ain’t gonna see close-up, unsimulated penetration
shots in the middle of an already unbearable rape scene. He ain’t
gonna see a man pleasuring his erect sex-limb during that self
same episode. Chances are he isn’t gonna be faced with a lengthy,
unsimulated, close-up blow-job a couple minutes later, and if by
some miracle he is, he can safely assume there won’t be no
lengthy, close-up, unsimulated penetration of the arse-bum
immediately after.
Allow The Duke to state for the record that I can no longer
assume this to be the case. Far as I’m concerned, there’s every
chance Batman Begins is gonna have a scene where Bale whips out
his member and pleasures Liam Neeson up the hole for a time,
unsimulated, and in close-up.
Baise-Moi is a proper film. It has a story, it has production
values, it’s been screened, and banned, in plenty legitimate
cinemas. It has actors who can act and a director who knows
exactly what she’s doing, and is fucking brilliant at doing so, I
might add.
It also has a gut-wrenching rape scene, featuring unsimulated
close-up buggery. It has a scene where a prostitute gives a bald
fella a lengthy, unsimulated close-up blow-job, before he does
her in the arse-bum, unsimulated, in close-up.
All that demented shit takes place in the first 15 minutes or so.
Following this hilarity, what occurs is that one of the rape
victims and the prostitute end up meeting in a train station and
setting off on a cross-country sex and violence extravaganza.
Real sex and fake violence seems to be the order of the day. I’m
not sure if these folks really did get their heads stomped in
with stilettos. I don’t know what the actor’s equity would make
of shoving a gun up someone’s arse, unsimulated and in close-up,
and then pulling the trigger so his guts fly out his face.
I’d say they’d be striking from now till doomsday if Ron Howard
tried that shit with Steve Martin.
Russell Crowe would probably be up for it though. “Howard, you
skinny little shit”, I’m guessing Crowe would announce. “I ain’t
reading another fucking line until you stick an AK-47 up my cack-
pipe.”
Baise-Moi is a difficult flick to enjoy, is the truth of the
matter, if maybe you’re a tad embarrassed by the whole authentic
sexing type shenanigans. I’ve never been much of a fan of the old
“pornography” myself, and even though Baise-Moi ain’t a porn
flick, it still has plenty scenes of real-live in your stinking
face erect willies and penetration and all sorts.
It’s all very shocking, on account of it ain’t porn, and yet
there we have it, blow-jobs and hand-jobs and any number of jobs
flung into our very eye-holes. Still, truth is, even in “proper”
cinema, they’ve been shoving real live erect willies into real
live orifices in close-up since as far back as anyone could be
bothered to think about. Nagisa Oshima’s 1976 arthouse opus In
The Realm Of The Senses (Ai no corrida) has been giving the
censors something for to yell about for years, on account of the
unsimulated “oral pleasure” and shoving things inside of hoo-
hah's in close-up. Lars Von Trier added an extra layer of
authenticity to The Idiots by having a couple brief shots of porn-
star penetration in the middle of the orgy sequence. Most
recently, Michael Winterbottom, of Code 46 and 24 Hour Party
People fame, caused a stir with his 9 Songs, being a collection
of real-live sex scenes and real-live performances by the likes
of Franz Ferdinand and Primal Scream.
I don’t know if Franz Ferdinand maybe take their suits off for a
second so as they can fist each other in close-up. I ain’t seen
it yet.
Also, I’m pretty sure Flubber had a scene where Robin Williams
got done in the arse by a mad scientist. In close-up.
But even though there’s plenty other examples of this sort of
raging sexaphonic dementia, I doubt any are as gleefully
nihilistic as Baise-Moi.
Baise-Moi just don’t give a fuck, is the truth of the matter, and
if you’re a fella, chances are it gives even less fucks than it
did already. This is a kinda feminist piece, for sure, but it
ain't feminism in your living-together-in-equality mode. It’s
more that men are a buncha fucking pigs, best we just blow the
fuck out their stinking heads and then go have some close-up sex
and then shoot the folks who were shoving real-live erect willies
into us ten minutes ago.
Women get shot, for sure, but it seems to be out of necessity,
and if they can help it at all, our two heroines much prefer to
leave the females out of it.
The blokes on the other hand are fit for nothing more than a
stiletto heel in the eyeball. They slap folks around, they rape
folks in unsimulated close-up, they respond to said rape as if
it's a violation of their property, like someone came in and shit
on the sofa. It ain’t about how the victim might feel, it’s about
some motherfucker thought he could put an erect sex-limb into my
girlfriend in unsimulated close-up, and so I’m gonna beat him
shitless.
Detestable sons a bitches, each and every one.
Unlike the two leads, who are, quite frankly, cool as all frozen
bejeesus. Apparently these two are real-live porn stars when not
making films about shooting folks up the arsehole, although I
haven’t saw any of their works. If I hadn’t been told, though,
I'd never have known. For sure, they convincingly sex, but they
also do everything else convincingly. Most convincingly of all,
they know exactly how to stand around in their underwear pointing
a gun. They know exactly how to make it look like the coolest
fucking thing you ever saw in your life.
That’s where Arnie was going wrong, I’m guessing. What he needed
to do was to stand around in bra and panties pouting and pointing
an AK. If he really wanted us to buy The Sixth Day, he should’ve
got done up the hole in close-up and then wandered around with a
gun in a manner similar to how these ladies do it. You think
these two are ever gonna have to run for office? Like fuck they
will, Arnie.
Anyhow, Baise-Moi also turned out to be a life-altering
experience for yours truly, i.e., The Duke. There were times,
man, I’m not ashamed to admit, when I had to have a good old
think about just where The Duke was coming from, with regards the
sexing and the close-ups. There are times when a fella thought
about that son of a bitch from out Placebo and found himself
wondering if, should the occasion ever present itself, perhaps in
a lift and then the lift shuts down and terrorists say yeah,
we're behind it, and also, I want unsimulated close-up sexing or
I’m gonna blow the fuck out of this whole office block, would
that have necessarily been the worst thing in the world? We’ve
all been there, man. We’ve all thought about that motherfucker
out Placebo. We’ve all had our little daydreams about maybe John
Cusack’s car breaks down and he needs you for to fix the gas or
whatever the fuck goes wrong with these things, and then, also,
how about some unsimulated close-up? We’ve all thought about what
if that fella in the bus demanded a close-up oral shag? Would we
be able to do it? Would we be able to say no, even?
Let The Duke state for the record, right now, that if there was
any hint of a threat to my heterosexuality hitherto viewing Baise-
Moi, it has now been erased. Let The Duke state for the record
that the sight of a male penis in close-up is just about the most
disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ll have you know I’ve saw
all sorts of disgusting visions, many including cannibals and /
or zombie flesh eaters of some kind.
I feel this is important in one’s understanding of Baise-Moi. I’m
sure Ebert or whoever pointed out exactly the same in their
reviews.
So anyway, when things boil down and evaporate or precipitate or
whatever, what Baise-Moi amounts to is a giant, capitalised FUCK
YOU. For sure, the title translates roughly as Rape Me, or Fuck
Me, but Fuck You would have been much more fitting. Like the song
says, It Just Don’t Give A Fuck. I can’t remember whose song it
was. Maybe Donnie Osmond. Whoever it was, Baise-Moi should’ve had
it on the soundtrack, although I understand they probably didn’t
have enough room, what with all the horrible Euro-pop techno they
had to fit on there.
When not assaulting us with Euro-pop techno, though, the score is
a thing of wonder, no mistake. Sometimes it has a brooding,
oppressive jazz thing going on, like Hermann’s score for Taxi
Driver. Other times it has adrenaline-soaked punk rock, sometimes
English, sometimes French, but even if you don’t know what’s
being said, you can be sure the sentiments are something along
the lines of Go Fuck Yourself.
So, to recap, Baise-Moi is an hour and ten minutes-worth of
sexing and shooting, with a fair old dollop of gritty realism and
the like. When I was watching it, I was thinking about how it
isn't porn, since the object of porn is to turn you on, I’m
guessing, to give you something to do for five minutes. If you’re
the kinda person who might get turned on by that unsimulated
close-up business in the middle of the rape scene, I was
thinking, then it ain’t Baise-Moi’s fault, that’s for damn sure.
Plus, the hooker scene straight after is much too hilarious for
to be any use to the casual wanker. The fella is busy pumping
away at her hoo-hah, but she’s sniggering at a shot of a sausage
being chopped up on telly.
Symbolism, motherfucker.
However, once the road-trip shenanigans begin, I had trouble
sticking to that notion, the whole “Ain’t porn cause it don’t
turn you on” business. Let me tell you right now, man, there’s a
scene where the two of them are dancing around in a hotel room,
and whilst obviously it did nothing for The Duke, I could imagine
that some folks might, quite justifiably, wanna nip out for three
or four minutes following that.
So what I concluded is that it’s a punk rock onslaught that
happens to have pornographic interludes here and there. The film
as a whole can’t be classed as pornography, and if you picked it
up in the hope that maybe you’ll have something exotic for to
ruin your socks over, then I’m guessing you’ll be disappointed.
It’s depressingly nihilistic, but at the same time exhilarating.
A fella feels a bit dirty after it all, to be sure, but maybe
that’s the whole idea.
It’s a confrontational sneer, a kick in the close-up nuts, it
burns the screen with fucking and fighting and posing, and then
it’s gone, and that’s it. That’s your lot. I just held you for an
hour and ten minutes and forced you to watch folks get done in
close-up and then shot in silly slow-motion. I made you feel sick
with a horrible rape scene, but a little while later I bet you
were on the edge of your seat with glee as those two blew the
fuck out of a bar-room filled with folks getting real-live oral
pleasure. I bet you laughed when that fella got shot up the
arsehole.
Who’s the fucking sicko, pal?
Thanks folks
Drop The Duke A Line Via Electronical Email
assuming he ain’t ever gonna have to be faced with. When a man
makes it his life’s work for to wax hilariously about The Motion
Films, and decides that it is to be “proper” motion films, i.e.,
not porn, that he will observe in such a manner, maybe it ain’t
all that bizarre for to assume there are things he ain’t gonna
see.
He probably ain’t gonna see close-up, unsimulated penetration
shots in the middle of an already unbearable rape scene. He ain’t
gonna see a man pleasuring his erect sex-limb during that self
same episode. Chances are he isn’t gonna be faced with a lengthy,
unsimulated, close-up blow-job a couple minutes later, and if by
some miracle he is, he can safely assume there won’t be no
lengthy, close-up, unsimulated penetration of the arse-bum
immediately after.
Allow The Duke to state for the record that I can no longer
assume this to be the case. Far as I’m concerned, there’s every
chance Batman Begins is gonna have a scene where Bale whips out
his member and pleasures Liam Neeson up the hole for a time,
unsimulated, and in close-up.
Baise-Moi is a proper film. It has a story, it has production
values, it’s been screened, and banned, in plenty legitimate
cinemas. It has actors who can act and a director who knows
exactly what she’s doing, and is fucking brilliant at doing so, I
might add.
It also has a gut-wrenching rape scene, featuring unsimulated
close-up buggery. It has a scene where a prostitute gives a bald
fella a lengthy, unsimulated close-up blow-job, before he does
her in the arse-bum, unsimulated, in close-up.
All that demented shit takes place in the first 15 minutes or so.
Following this hilarity, what occurs is that one of the rape
victims and the prostitute end up meeting in a train station and
setting off on a cross-country sex and violence extravaganza.
Real sex and fake violence seems to be the order of the day. I’m
not sure if these folks really did get their heads stomped in
with stilettos. I don’t know what the actor’s equity would make
of shoving a gun up someone’s arse, unsimulated and in close-up,
and then pulling the trigger so his guts fly out his face.
I’d say they’d be striking from now till doomsday if Ron Howard
tried that shit with Steve Martin.
Russell Crowe would probably be up for it though. “Howard, you
skinny little shit”, I’m guessing Crowe would announce. “I ain’t
reading another fucking line until you stick an AK-47 up my cack-
pipe.”
Baise-Moi is a difficult flick to enjoy, is the truth of the
matter, if maybe you’re a tad embarrassed by the whole authentic
sexing type shenanigans. I’ve never been much of a fan of the old
“pornography” myself, and even though Baise-Moi ain’t a porn
flick, it still has plenty scenes of real-live in your stinking
face erect willies and penetration and all sorts.
It’s all very shocking, on account of it ain’t porn, and yet
there we have it, blow-jobs and hand-jobs and any number of jobs
flung into our very eye-holes. Still, truth is, even in “proper”
cinema, they’ve been shoving real live erect willies into real
live orifices in close-up since as far back as anyone could be
bothered to think about. Nagisa Oshima’s 1976 arthouse opus In
The Realm Of The Senses (Ai no corrida) has been giving the
censors something for to yell about for years, on account of the
unsimulated “oral pleasure” and shoving things inside of hoo-
hah's in close-up. Lars Von Trier added an extra layer of
authenticity to The Idiots by having a couple brief shots of porn-
star penetration in the middle of the orgy sequence. Most
recently, Michael Winterbottom, of Code 46 and 24 Hour Party
People fame, caused a stir with his 9 Songs, being a collection
of real-live sex scenes and real-live performances by the likes
of Franz Ferdinand and Primal Scream.
I don’t know if Franz Ferdinand maybe take their suits off for a
second so as they can fist each other in close-up. I ain’t seen
it yet.
Also, I’m pretty sure Flubber had a scene where Robin Williams
got done in the arse by a mad scientist. In close-up.
But even though there’s plenty other examples of this sort of
raging sexaphonic dementia, I doubt any are as gleefully
nihilistic as Baise-Moi.
Baise-Moi just don’t give a fuck, is the truth of the matter, and
if you’re a fella, chances are it gives even less fucks than it
did already. This is a kinda feminist piece, for sure, but it
ain't feminism in your living-together-in-equality mode. It’s
more that men are a buncha fucking pigs, best we just blow the
fuck out their stinking heads and then go have some close-up sex
and then shoot the folks who were shoving real-live erect willies
into us ten minutes ago.
Women get shot, for sure, but it seems to be out of necessity,
and if they can help it at all, our two heroines much prefer to
leave the females out of it.
The blokes on the other hand are fit for nothing more than a
stiletto heel in the eyeball. They slap folks around, they rape
folks in unsimulated close-up, they respond to said rape as if
it's a violation of their property, like someone came in and shit
on the sofa. It ain’t about how the victim might feel, it’s about
some motherfucker thought he could put an erect sex-limb into my
girlfriend in unsimulated close-up, and so I’m gonna beat him
shitless.
Detestable sons a bitches, each and every one.
Unlike the two leads, who are, quite frankly, cool as all frozen
bejeesus. Apparently these two are real-live porn stars when not
making films about shooting folks up the arsehole, although I
haven’t saw any of their works. If I hadn’t been told, though,
I'd never have known. For sure, they convincingly sex, but they
also do everything else convincingly. Most convincingly of all,
they know exactly how to stand around in their underwear pointing
a gun. They know exactly how to make it look like the coolest
fucking thing you ever saw in your life.
That’s where Arnie was going wrong, I’m guessing. What he needed
to do was to stand around in bra and panties pouting and pointing
an AK. If he really wanted us to buy The Sixth Day, he should’ve
got done up the hole in close-up and then wandered around with a
gun in a manner similar to how these ladies do it. You think
these two are ever gonna have to run for office? Like fuck they
will, Arnie.
Anyhow, Baise-Moi also turned out to be a life-altering
experience for yours truly, i.e., The Duke. There were times,
man, I’m not ashamed to admit, when I had to have a good old
think about just where The Duke was coming from, with regards the
sexing and the close-ups. There are times when a fella thought
about that son of a bitch from out Placebo and found himself
wondering if, should the occasion ever present itself, perhaps in
a lift and then the lift shuts down and terrorists say yeah,
we're behind it, and also, I want unsimulated close-up sexing or
I’m gonna blow the fuck out of this whole office block, would
that have necessarily been the worst thing in the world? We’ve
all been there, man. We’ve all thought about that motherfucker
out Placebo. We’ve all had our little daydreams about maybe John
Cusack’s car breaks down and he needs you for to fix the gas or
whatever the fuck goes wrong with these things, and then, also,
how about some unsimulated close-up? We’ve all thought about what
if that fella in the bus demanded a close-up oral shag? Would we
be able to do it? Would we be able to say no, even?
Let The Duke state for the record, right now, that if there was
any hint of a threat to my heterosexuality hitherto viewing Baise-
Moi, it has now been erased. Let The Duke state for the record
that the sight of a male penis in close-up is just about the most
disgusting thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ll have you know I’ve saw
all sorts of disgusting visions, many including cannibals and /
or zombie flesh eaters of some kind.
I feel this is important in one’s understanding of Baise-Moi. I’m
sure Ebert or whoever pointed out exactly the same in their
reviews.
So anyway, when things boil down and evaporate or precipitate or
whatever, what Baise-Moi amounts to is a giant, capitalised FUCK
YOU. For sure, the title translates roughly as Rape Me, or Fuck
Me, but Fuck You would have been much more fitting. Like the song
says, It Just Don’t Give A Fuck. I can’t remember whose song it
was. Maybe Donnie Osmond. Whoever it was, Baise-Moi should’ve had
it on the soundtrack, although I understand they probably didn’t
have enough room, what with all the horrible Euro-pop techno they
had to fit on there.
When not assaulting us with Euro-pop techno, though, the score is
a thing of wonder, no mistake. Sometimes it has a brooding,
oppressive jazz thing going on, like Hermann’s score for Taxi
Driver. Other times it has adrenaline-soaked punk rock, sometimes
English, sometimes French, but even if you don’t know what’s
being said, you can be sure the sentiments are something along
the lines of Go Fuck Yourself.
So, to recap, Baise-Moi is an hour and ten minutes-worth of
sexing and shooting, with a fair old dollop of gritty realism and
the like. When I was watching it, I was thinking about how it
isn't porn, since the object of porn is to turn you on, I’m
guessing, to give you something to do for five minutes. If you’re
the kinda person who might get turned on by that unsimulated
close-up business in the middle of the rape scene, I was
thinking, then it ain’t Baise-Moi’s fault, that’s for damn sure.
Plus, the hooker scene straight after is much too hilarious for
to be any use to the casual wanker. The fella is busy pumping
away at her hoo-hah, but she’s sniggering at a shot of a sausage
being chopped up on telly.
Symbolism, motherfucker.
However, once the road-trip shenanigans begin, I had trouble
sticking to that notion, the whole “Ain’t porn cause it don’t
turn you on” business. Let me tell you right now, man, there’s a
scene where the two of them are dancing around in a hotel room,
and whilst obviously it did nothing for The Duke, I could imagine
that some folks might, quite justifiably, wanna nip out for three
or four minutes following that.
So what I concluded is that it’s a punk rock onslaught that
happens to have pornographic interludes here and there. The film
as a whole can’t be classed as pornography, and if you picked it
up in the hope that maybe you’ll have something exotic for to
ruin your socks over, then I’m guessing you’ll be disappointed.
It’s depressingly nihilistic, but at the same time exhilarating.
A fella feels a bit dirty after it all, to be sure, but maybe
that’s the whole idea.
It’s a confrontational sneer, a kick in the close-up nuts, it
burns the screen with fucking and fighting and posing, and then
it’s gone, and that’s it. That’s your lot. I just held you for an
hour and ten minutes and forced you to watch folks get done in
close-up and then shot in silly slow-motion. I made you feel sick
with a horrible rape scene, but a little while later I bet you
were on the edge of your seat with glee as those two blew the
fuck out of a bar-room filled with folks getting real-live oral
pleasure. I bet you laughed when that fella got shot up the
arsehole.
Who’s the fucking sicko, pal?
Thanks folks
Drop The Duke A Line Via Electronical Email
