The anthropologist Jules Henry once wrote that "men compete for power; women compete for men." Okay, it's kind of simple minded, but this movie neatly illustrates the point Henry was trying to make. Two women, Sandrine and Nathalie, meet by accident and begin an affair. Nathalie, the older and more experienced of the two, teaches Sandrine how to seduce her way up the corporate ladder, including instructions on how to improve your fake orgasms. Treat them nice and then dump them for someone better, but do it subtly.
The first guy at this huge corporation is nothing more than target practice for Sandrine. She works through him to get at the next guy in the bigger office, a happily married winsome man with a face that has all the sympathetic appeal of road kill. Sandrine, following Nathalie's instructions, works overtime at the office and spurns all hits until one night she allows the 47-year-old boss in the bigger office to catch her in a do-it-yourself mode. The older man, Delacroix, whom I'd supposed to be dead since 1863, begins a passionate affair with the delectable young Sandrine. She teases and taunts him and makes him feel vigorous again. He can't do without her. Then after tricking him into visiting her unannounced at her home, she lets him wander in on her and Nathalie while they are making love. Only in a French movie would his first question be, "Are you in love with her"? No bothering with the fact that he's got two women humping in front of him. That is what we blue-blooded church-goers call "sang-froid." Anyway -- skipping some additional steps -- Sandrine finally makes it into the office of the boss's son, a young rich hunk, Christophe. The real boss doesn't count because he's old and moribund. (He's my age.) But now our story turns a bit and begins to get REALLY creepy.
It develops that Nathalie has having an affair with Christophe and has been spying for him too. And this Christophe is a match for the two plotting women, believe me. "Me, cruel? Am I more cruel than God or creation?" What a cold blooded cad. Or cod. Let's see. The film turns into what could have been a soft-core porn film from any country except that in France they do it to an oratorio by Handel. We have ordinary intercourse, but not much of that. Then there's the lesbian affair of course. And, let me think, oh yes, incest and orgies. Christophe winds up marrying Sandrine and as a special treat on their wedding night he has her dragged screaming down to a dungeon and gang banged by a bunch of strangers. All this to the tune of Bach's Missa Solemnis or something and the reassuring sight of softly billowing scarlet curtains. When Nathalie finally plugs Christophe (seven times) he begs her not to commit suicide because then she will follow him to hell and harass him for eternity. When Christophe dies on the staircase his body is enshrouded by white smoke and a hawk lands on his chest and begins tearing at the bullet holes around his heart. Don't ask.
Well, Nathalie doesn't kill herself. She goes to prison for seven years, marries her prison guard, and has a family with him. Sandrine, having lost her husband, inherits everything he had, meaning their vast estate and the huge corporation. She runs the business with the now-chastened Delacroix as her loyal assistant.
I'm not trying to hack the movie to pieces, although I have made fun of some of it. I found myself genuinely interested in where it was going -- in where it could POSSIBLY go next. And I was sincerely happy that both women wound up evidently satisfied with their secure circumstances. And I appreciated the way Sandrine presented herself. She's attractive without being beautiful. And she has a way of grooming herself and walking and posturing that makes the most of what the Intelligent Designer has given her, a trait more commonly found in Europeans than Americans, if I may make such an Olympian generalization. The story, and some of the scenes, are pretty erotic but they're done with style. There's little nudity and what there is of it isn't vulgar. I kind of liked the whole thing.
The first guy at this huge corporation is nothing more than target practice for Sandrine. She works through him to get at the next guy in the bigger office, a happily married winsome man with a face that has all the sympathetic appeal of road kill. Sandrine, following Nathalie's instructions, works overtime at the office and spurns all hits until one night she allows the 47-year-old boss in the bigger office to catch her in a do-it-yourself mode. The older man, Delacroix, whom I'd supposed to be dead since 1863, begins a passionate affair with the delectable young Sandrine. She teases and taunts him and makes him feel vigorous again. He can't do without her. Then after tricking him into visiting her unannounced at her home, she lets him wander in on her and Nathalie while they are making love. Only in a French movie would his first question be, "Are you in love with her"? No bothering with the fact that he's got two women humping in front of him. That is what we blue-blooded church-goers call "sang-froid." Anyway -- skipping some additional steps -- Sandrine finally makes it into the office of the boss's son, a young rich hunk, Christophe. The real boss doesn't count because he's old and moribund. (He's my age.) But now our story turns a bit and begins to get REALLY creepy.
It develops that Nathalie has having an affair with Christophe and has been spying for him too. And this Christophe is a match for the two plotting women, believe me. "Me, cruel? Am I more cruel than God or creation?" What a cold blooded cad. Or cod. Let's see. The film turns into what could have been a soft-core porn film from any country except that in France they do it to an oratorio by Handel. We have ordinary intercourse, but not much of that. Then there's the lesbian affair of course. And, let me think, oh yes, incest and orgies. Christophe winds up marrying Sandrine and as a special treat on their wedding night he has her dragged screaming down to a dungeon and gang banged by a bunch of strangers. All this to the tune of Bach's Missa Solemnis or something and the reassuring sight of softly billowing scarlet curtains. When Nathalie finally plugs Christophe (seven times) he begs her not to commit suicide because then she will follow him to hell and harass him for eternity. When Christophe dies on the staircase his body is enshrouded by white smoke and a hawk lands on his chest and begins tearing at the bullet holes around his heart. Don't ask.
Well, Nathalie doesn't kill herself. She goes to prison for seven years, marries her prison guard, and has a family with him. Sandrine, having lost her husband, inherits everything he had, meaning their vast estate and the huge corporation. She runs the business with the now-chastened Delacroix as her loyal assistant.
I'm not trying to hack the movie to pieces, although I have made fun of some of it. I found myself genuinely interested in where it was going -- in where it could POSSIBLY go next. And I was sincerely happy that both women wound up evidently satisfied with their secure circumstances. And I appreciated the way Sandrine presented herself. She's attractive without being beautiful. And she has a way of grooming herself and walking and posturing that makes the most of what the Intelligent Designer has given her, a trait more commonly found in Europeans than Americans, if I may make such an Olympian generalization. The story, and some of the scenes, are pretty erotic but they're done with style. There's little nudity and what there is of it isn't vulgar. I kind of liked the whole thing.