Review of Bilitis

Bilitis (1977)
6/10
Worth Watching 'Till the End
5 March 2022
It's a little sad to read the reviews by people who've only watched a portion of this film. Yes, Bilitis starts out like the dopiest male horndog's perspective of the world: an all girl's school where every student is a model-tier beauty, and they all caress each other, giggle as they undress and go skinny-dipping as a class. But there's a lot more going on here. It's all gorgeously shot, with David Hamilton's signature, gauzy diffused style, and Francis Lai's soundtrack is sweet. The director is able to elicit natural, conversational performances from most of the cast (sorry, Gilles Kohler). Still, content-wise, I can't deny that it all plays out like empty-headed softcore porn.

For a while, anyway. You'll be rewarded for sticking around. Maybe a third of the way through, they virtually dispense with the sex and nudity... the story's still all about hooking up, and there's plenty of kissing and suggestive embracing. But the R-rated stuff nearly disappears, and whatever's left is no longer gratuitous.

Instead, the film practically turns into an Eric Rohmer film: a charming story of a young girl who goes around town trying to find a suitable match for an older woman, only to get her heart broken in the process. It has a very gentle humor to it (it gets funnier and funnier every time Nikias's two friends wander back into shot), and that combined with the pictorial settings and languid lifestyles depicted - the titular Bilitis is even staying with an older couple while on holiday from school, and getting caught up in the bad examples they set - calls to mind Pauline At the Beach and Claire's Knee. The characters blossom from their centerfold origins into intriguing, sympathetic humans, a development I credit to screenwriter Catherine Breillat. I'm sure the 19th century source material has something to do with it, too; but there are echoes of her work throughout this movie, and in all the best moments. The critical study of males' attritional style of seduction, for example, feels like a direct precursor to her masterclass on the subject in A ma soeur. But just generally having a strong female voice guiding what is ostensibly meant to be a very personal, first person experience of a female character discovering her womanhood is something usually sorely absent in Hamilton's films (which is felt doubly now, given what came out later in his life, casting a dark shadow over everything he's ever done) or other "erotic" films of this era.

I put "erotic" in quotes there, because Breillat has said in interview that she doesn't see the film as erotic and didn't intend it to be. There's definitely some push-pull here, and the final film probably falls more safely into the category of Erotica than the script she delivered. But while that tension results in the aforementioned male gaze-y flaws of the first act (I'd add an extra star or two if they'd just given the first act a quick rewrite), it's also an asset: a Hamilton film with more depth and truth than he usually finds, and a softer, less combative work than we're used to from Breillat. Bilitis isn't likely to be anybody's favorite film, but it's more than the technically adept bit of titillation you probably bought the ticket for. The characters can be surprising, and you wind up caring about them, worrying for how they'll end up to a greater degree than most straight-forward Hollywood dramas are able to manage.

I've seen other negative reactions - again, quite understandable after 2016 - often describing this film as being for Hamilton fans only. And certainly if you're a die-hard devotee, sure, you need this in your collection just by virtue of his name being on it. And it does have all his signature traits. It looks like his photographs come alive. But I'd actually say almost the opposite: this isn't for Hamilton fans. I think a lot of the disappointment comes from guys looking for a little naughty entertainment (just look at the reviews complaining about the soft focus nudity, brevity of the sex scenes or the actresses' bust sizes) and instead stumbling on what is, at least at points, an indictment of men imposing their sexual desires onto young girls... which is - whoops! Hamilton, his fans and almost everyone else in this market.

I think I'd say instead that this is a film for Breillat fans only. And even then, it's not exactly her greatest literary achievement. But it's probably the only one with a warm and inviting quality. Hamilton's elegant style coupled with her singular understanding of human relationships is at least worth staying to the end for.
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