Brilliant skewering of the entire genre. It's been called sexist, but I disagree - both genders come out petty and obsessed.

I will never understand why the fuck he didn't kill that bitch. I will never understand women. I will never understand love and desire. But I don't care. I want to be exploited. Just a little bit.

"From Un Chien Andalou to That Obscure Object of Desire, Luis Buñuel spent almost 50 years cataloging the frustrated romantic desires of his characters." - Ed Gonzalez

Bunuel's marvelous idea of having two different actresses play the same role gives a whole new twist to this old story (first filmed with Dietrich) of sexual obsession.

A solid, enjoyable Buñuel film. The acting is very effective and the touch of absurdity that permeates the film makes for a very fun experience. The commentary on desire and control is well executed and provides some interesting things to think about, especially given the ending.

Luis Buñuel's swan song "Cet obscur objet du désir" is a gimmicky, maddening and occasionally brilliant examination of erotic obsession. The surreal touches are here (although toned down from "Le charme discret de la bourgeoisie") but don't distract from a story as compelling as it is frustrating. Rey turns in another low-key but strong performance, while the two-actress trick is efficient. A very satisfying film overall. It overcomes its flaws and emerges as a largely entertaining masterwork.

I'm probably stunted by a lack of knowledge of Bunuels movies here. But I just can't get over the fact that he makes France unenticing and Spain unsexy. The dynamic between the lead and the girl is well-played but much of the surrounding movie falls flat.

#519

Dieu nous sauver de la traîtrise des femmes diable.

# 354

Buñuel has a unique side to all his films, This one included. But it's not as cheaky and overwhelming as some of his other works. Still, there are some incredible scenes, some making you want to strangle the girl - others making you to worship her. Which is a refreshing mix of emotions.

The fruitless pursuit of the titular "object" becomes more and more maddening, not because it is unfulfilled, but because Mathieu can never "have" Conchita because she refuses to be objectified, and he fails to realize this. The absurdity of Buñuel's final film is subtle, but satisfying.

This is a very well-made film, however its hard to find joy in its subject matter.