Stacy Martin is Young Joe - Photo via Interview Magazine
A self-diagnosed nymphomaniac recounts her erotic experiences to the man who saved her after a beating.
Last night, while I was writing about the Paris Menswear fashion week, I took the decision and have a break by going to the movies with a very good friend of mine. We decided to watch nymphomaniac part 1 while we're having a pretty intense conversation about sex. I knew about the movie long ago, I had watched the trailer so I saw to my friend to create her first own impression. As we both agreed we were ready to face up a kinky porn. The surprise was big, not only while we're watching the movie but after the finale of the first part. For me the movie wasn't a porn, was the raw truth that only few of us out there are ready to revel and also face. It's a different very interesting view about sex, what's good and bad and I felt like Joe ( the amazing Charlotte Gainsbourg and also the sex addict of the story) and Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard) were representing the two mature values good - bad. So yeah, I didn't felt like I was watching a porn at all, of course it was horny I am not gonna lie about that but, indeed it was a well made film, in a strange delicate and simultaneously raw way, with a very interesting story and more interesting dialogues between Joe and Seligman which his name means happiness, something that I don't feel that was an accidentally choice. Of course the director and writer Lars Von Trier played with the audience cleverly with his first "soft-core" part of his movie with an unexpected end an a very beautiful direction full of images and nice small details, like the chapters of the movie the everyday images connecting them metaphorically with the magic or curse of sex. So as you understand, I loved the movie and the sure thing is that I can't way for the second hardcore part. If you haven't seen it then do it and if you want to throw yourself away into an unknown path of sex then watch the movie again.
Stacy Martin is Young Joe - Connie Nielsen is Joe's Mother
The Guardian Review about the movie by Xan Brooks: Hang on to your seat back, your Bible, or the hand of a friend. Lars von Trier's Nymphomaniac bludgeons the body and tenderises the soul. It is perplexing, preposterous and utterly fascinating; a false bill of goods in that it's a film about sex that is deliberately unsexy and a long, garrulous story (two volumes, four hours) that largely talks to itself. Those naked figures in motion are just a distraction. To blunder in on Nymphomaniac is to catch the sight of a middle-aged Dane masturbating alone in a darkened room. It may be sensational, it might even be art. But I'm not sure it is intended for public consumption.
This, perhaps, is the corner that von Trier has painted himself into. Following his ejection from the 2011 Cannes film festival as a result of an ill-advised Nazi "joke", the puckish director has taken a public vow of silence. He has turned his back on the circus and pulled up the drawbridge. Nymphomaniac, for better or worse, feels as though it was made in a vacuum; a private shadow play, typified by theatrical dialogue and unvarnished editorialising. If von Trier can't speak to the press he can speak through his film. No interruptions, no questions. He is all set to splurge.
The drama is dark and heavy, marbled with contrivances and coincidences that the players remark upon and encrusted with a mixed-bag of supporting performances, from Shia LaBeouf (ill at ease) and Uma Thurman (electrifying) to Jamie Bell, curiously riveting as a neat little sadist who never once meets your eye.