With all due apologies to feminists out there who admire this film for its supposed frank exploration of female sexuality, let's come down to earth. Deneuve's icy performance reveals little. Her fantasy afternoons don't seem to give her any pleasure or resolve the issues with her husband. Bunuel's heady mix of realism/surrealism does nothing more than confuse the viewer and imply depth when there really is none. "Belle de Jour" is best enjoyed as a two hour fashion show of 1960s Yves Saint Laurent outfits and elaborate hairstyles.
Review of Belle de Jour
