‘Emmanuelle’ Review: Audrey Diwan’s Update of a ’70s Softcore Hit Is More Pretty Than Purposeful

‘Emmanuelle’ Review: Audrey Diwan’s Update of a ’70s Softcore Hit Is More Pretty Than Purposeful

As a seasoned gamer of cinema, spanning decades and countless genres, I’ve seen my fair share of reboots, remakes, and revivals. Some have been triumphant, some have been tragic, but most fall somewhere in between – often veering towards the latter. The new iteration of Emmanuelle, with its pretentious lighting and absent humor, seems to be a textbook example of the latter.


From the moment its initial trailer was released, the erotic drama Emmanuelle has been met with snickers, living up to the expectations of being a largely unnecessary reimagining in filmmaking. It’s a piece that can effortlessly be dismissed as yet another manifestation of the 21st century trend – the resurrection of a kitschy mid-20th century brand, now adorned with lofty ambitions, somber lighting, and an unfortunate lack of humor.

Back in the ’70s, I stumbled upon a book that later morphed into an adult-themed movie, titled “Emmanuelle.” This film, directed by Just Jaeckin and starring Sylvia Kristel, was a massive cultural phenomenon in 1974. It dominated box offices worldwide, sparking conversations about the sexual revolution, for better or worse, and even teaching a generation how to transform their jeans into cutoff shorts!

Director Audrey Diwan’s next project following her critically acclaimed and award-winning film Happening may not achieve the same level of cultural influence, not even in terms of fashion (although the use of ’90s-inspired bias-cut slip dresses in Emmanuelle is quite stylish today). However, it should be noted that this film attempts to prioritize female perspective and autonomy, which is commendable. Yet, its focus on a sex-positive female entrepreneur narrative feels somewhat predictable and reminiscent of contemporary 21st century tropes.

Indeed, there’s certainly an audience who would appreciate it, not only those who might watch it with a critical eye, but also those who find enjoyment in its campy aspects. If fortune favors Emmanuelle, it could become a cult classic similar to Showgirls for this generation, a film that is undeniably cheesy yet oddly charming, offering a guilty pleasure in every sense.

Diwan and Rebecca Zlotowski’s screenplay serves as a minimalistic foundation based on the original story, yet it carries an air of refined yet believable French essence that seems to fade upon translation to English. Originally, Emmanuelle, portrayed by Kristel, was a model with little employment, whose life primarily revolved around her mysterious husband, a diplomat in Bangkok, and his desires. In this revamped version, Emmanuelle (Noémie Merlant) is a career-oriented quality control inspector for a prominent luxury hotel chain, thus asserting her own professional identity.

Initially, they encounter her engaging in sex at high altitude in a business class cabin with an unfamiliar man (Harrison Arevalo), reminiscent of a well-known event from the initial film. Later, she arrives at the Rosefield Palace, an opulent Hong Kong hotel where she is to evaluate its quality. The palace, as suggested by credits and additional information, is a blend of actual work done at the St. Regis Hong Kong and constructed sets designed to replicate the luxurious suites with their oversized sofas stretching over a kilometer.

While Emmanuelle measures the staff’s speed in delivering a glass of water and critiques a chef’s unique lobster dish with mango reduction, the segment transitions into a montage style reminiscent of high-end fashion films and hidden marketing for luxury consumers. The scene is filled with attractive shots of bathtubs elegantly drawn and trays of delicate pastries being carefully arranged on cold shelves. Essentially, it’s all quite similar.

From my perspective, the narrative unfolds with me engaging in a complex trio situation with another couple, a scenario that’s far from the casual pleasure one might assume, given I never experience climax during this encounter. I find myself drawn to a captivating stranger, Kei Shinohara (Will Sharpe, known for his role in ‘The White Lotus’), who was aboard the plane at the story’s outset. Additionally, I strike up an unusual friendship with Zelda (Chacha Huang), a hotel pool-based escort who claims her sex work is more of a leisurely pursuit, a break from her studies in English Literature.

Furthermore, Emmanuelle’s storyline involves a substantial plot thread about the corporation looking for reasons to dismiss the expensive hotel manager Margot (played by Naomi Watts, who uses her British accent in this film), despite her apparent flawless performance at work. There is some connection between Margot and Zelda’s stories as it seems that Margot is fully informed about what Zelda is doing on the property – a fact that isn’t surprising given that the head of security (Anthony Wong) closely monitors everyone’s actions using CCTV. However, this aspect of the storyline feels somewhat unclear or incomplete, as if it were trimmed down during editing.

Ultimately, the movie’s main dramatic focus is on Emmanuelle experiencing a climactic moment with another attractive man, while asexual Kei observes and translates directions to the partner for her in Cantonese. This scene appears to represent the emotional peak in any modern romantic tale, where taking charge becomes significant.

Diwan acknowledges in her press releases that she finds inspiration in films like “Jeanne Dielman, 23, quai du Commerce, 1080 Bruxelles” by Chantal Akerman and “Claire Dolan” by Lodge Kerrigan, along with others. It’s true that “Emmanuelle” appears to delve more deeply into the complexities of sex work and female pleasure compared to films like the “Fifty Shades of Grey” adaptations from a few years back. If the characters in this film avoid lengthy dialogues or complex discussions, and instead limit their speech to simple greetings like “hello” or remain silent during intimate moments, then watching it can be quite enjoyable, even tantalizingly sensual.

The soundtrack by Evgueni and Sacha Galperine, which can be somewhat dissonant yet consistently rhythmic and perfectly timed, exerts a powerful charm, complemented by Laurent Tangy’s captivating cinematography. However, it all feels like it’s designed to create an upscale advertisement for a product that is neither attainable nor desired by most viewers.

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2024-09-21 19:55