The Rattle of the Sexes

THE BLUE ROOM (A-minus) - Familiar face Matthieu Amalric ("Venus in Fur," "The Diving Bell and Butterfly") sits behind the camera and also stars in this slow-burn of a story about the tragic consequences of a love affair.

We open amid the sweaty limbs of Julien (Amalric ) and Esther (Stephanie Cleau). After their lovemaking, she bites his lip, drawing blood. She has marked him. Go explain that to your wife. They also engage in some ominous pillow talk, recklessly chatting about a possible future in that treacherous way of couples in illicit affairs.

Amalric has created a pure suspense film, but one that unfolds gingerly and culminates in an understated final-scene reveal that elicits a shudder. He isn't going for the harshness of a Polanski film or the brashness of Hitchcock, but he's trafficking in that territory. It also brings to mind Asghar Farhadi's devastating study of a broken relationship, "A Separation" (as well as his more recent one, "The Past").

Meantime, this is a smoldering cigarette of a police procedural. Someone has died; we don't know whom until well into the second half of the film. Julien is being questioned by the authorities, with snippets of scenes serving to dish out only some pieces of the puzzle. Is this about Esther's husband? About Esther? Someone else? Flashbacks reveal a strained relationship between Julien and his wife, Delphine (Lea Drucker). He tampers with clues that likely are evidence. Yet he also seems genuinely befuddled by the twists and turns of events.

The claustrophobic spaces in the police station are contrasted with the lovers' chamber, which is highly erotic. That is so even when the room is empty and all we see are mussed sheets. You can almost smell the musk left behind.

Amalric is making a misogynist statement or a statement about misogyny, but I'm not sure which. Julien is portrayed as the hapless victim of both his wife and his mistress. The director's camera leers at times. We watch a fly rest on Esther's bare belly. Not once but twice he lingers just half a beat longer than normal as a naked Esther sensually uncrosses and crosses her legs, clearly displaying her crotch. It's not a playful tease like in "Basic Instinct"; it's borderline pornographic. You get the feeling that Amalric wants to zoom in closer or even inside, return to the womb.

The combination of mood, visuals and sharp storytelling are surreptitiously intoxicating. And Amalric has the good sense and sure hand to wrap this up quickly. It's over in 76 minutes, and there's not a moment wasted. You don't realize that Amalric's film is taking your breath away.