Right when the awards season came to an end and we were afraid of the usual post-Oscars lull, the first great film of 2015 was waiting in our screens, kicking a new year of cinema in style. Reaffirming the unique personality of one of Britain’s most distinctive new filmmakers, Peter Stickland’s third feature ‘The Duke Of Burgundy’, almost ironically named as the male species of one of the moths its main character studies, depicts the decadently refined world of a lady dedicated to entomological studies living in a countryside mansion with her maid, engaged in a mistress and servant role-playing relationship where things are not what they seem.
From the first scene our sense of voyeurism is teased as we are allowed to gaze into the couple’s meticulously staged intimate practices; the maid being humiliated for her “negligent services” by her perfectly groomed and dressed up mistress. A repetition of that initial scene begins shaping up a pattern of everyday routines and slowly unveils the particulars of their bizarre partnership, in which the submissive part writes a detailed list of rules to prepare her lover for each of their encounters, showing an insatiable appetite for exploring the boundaries of her fetish and S&M interests (Human toilet anyone?) and using the code word ‘Pinastri’ (another type of moth) when she reaches the limit of her pleasurable punishment. Meanwhile, her increasing demands suffocate the apparently more assertive entomologist, making her feel as framed by the constraints of their relationships as the insects pinned down to a board she collects.
Like its predecessor ‘Berberian Sound Studio’ did with Giallo, Burgundy also pays here homage to the erotically loaded European subgenres of the seventies. Comparisons with the body of work of Spanish horror master Jess Franco; Italian erotic pioneer Tinto Brass or even such popular “Classified S” classics as ’Emmanuelle’ have been used as references to describe it, but despite its obvious formal inspirations, ‘The Duke Of Burgundy’ lives in a world of its own. It would have worked just fine as a superbly exercise of style (credits for hair, lingerie and even perfume give an indication of the level of detail at work), but it also builds up the tension as if constantly courting with the possibility of turning into one of those genre movies it carefully pays tribute to.
However, Strickland evens out style with substance by treating the display of ups and downs in the couples’ role playing games as a clever reflection on the way we negotiate the balance of power in our relationships, crafting a work that is both intensely atmospheric and quietly disturbing, luxuriating in the foreplay of its perfectly cast two leads, played by European actresses Sidse Babett Knudsen (our favourite Danish prime minister ever from the TV series ‘Borgen’) and Chiara D’Anna (an absolute revelation) respectively. Cat’s Eyes’ excellent soundtrack also replicates the sounds of those subgenres in all their sensual glory.
In times where the sexual commercialization of “50 shades of Grey” is sold to the masses as the ultimate female fantasy, anyone with an interest in real erotism, S&M or simply in human relationships would be much better served, entertained and enlightened by The Duke’s alluring charms. ★★★★★
