I have seen Frears version of de Laclos’ awesome book multiple times, and wasn’t surprised that a movie from the 1950s fails to stand up to Malkovich, Close and Pfeiffer. I was surprised, however, to see the plot transplanted to the present, and Valmont and Merteuil made into a married couple, odd decisions both, and while interesting, not helping the movie. But the real weakness is Vadims failure to convey any of the intricate psychology of de Laclos’ plot and the beautyfully crafted letters it consists of. Having seen this certainly makes me appreciate Frears quite a bit more. And as a final note, I’m not sure I’d want to see another movie with eternally sulky femme banale Jeanne Moreau any time soon.
Something to say?