The Lover

Annaud shot in Vietnam, creating gorgeous, often exotic images. The compelling film is a journey to another world and time, seen from a unique and peculiar perspective. [23 Nov 1992, p.D05]

the film that Mr. Annaud and his producer, Claude Berri, have made is something of a triumph. It's tough, clear-eyed, utterly unsentimental, produced lavishly but with such discipline that the exotic locale never gets in the way of the minutely detailed drama at the center. Read full review

The Lover's rarefied sensibility takes getting used to; once its spell is cast, you won't want to blink. Read full review

Annaud's picture does an exquisite job of conveying the many-layered ironies of its material, creating a mood of odd reserve and self-reflection even as it stages the couple's trysts with both force and delicacy. [29 Jan 1993, p.L21]

The Lover is one of those great films that shouldn't be missed. Read full review

Erotically charged American films invariably are spiked with criminal danger. So "The Lover" - a movie about a young French girl's sexual awakening in colonial Vietnam that relies entirely on cinematic effects to evoke the sensuality of its time, place and events - is refreshing evidence that we don't need fear to trigger arousal. Read full review

THE Lover is lyrical and sensuous, very pretty and strangely hollow. Deliberately hollow, I think - the flatness at the centre of this film is meant to correspond to the emptiness at the heart of its young protagonist. And the audience is supposed to fall into that void and hear its echo, feel the residual ache. Yet we don't - we're content to comprehend the theme without feeling it. Our emotions are spared, and, as a result, we watch the proceedings at a safe remove - appreciative yet detached, admiring yet unmoved. There's much to love about The Lover, but not enough to love passionately. [30 Oct 1992]

Is it pornographic? Not by today's standards. It is certainly erotic, but no more so than "Basic Instinct" and other big-studio movies. The couplings of The Young Girl and The Chinese Man (their names are never disclosed) are natural and even lyrical, except for one punishing incident. [2 Nov 1992]

Technically, the film is as sexy as art house sex gets, as the bold and precocious girl initiates the coupling in the "bachelor's room" the man rents in Saigon's teeming Chinese quarter. But the couplings lack heat and intimacy and spontaneity in ways that have nothing to do with the man's tentativeness. What you feel as these scenes unfold isn't passion, but a sense of how carefully the bodies are being arranged, how artfully they're being lit. What we're experiencing here isn't ardor; it's up-market craftsmanship. There's much more of a sexual charge in their first scene together, when he glimpses her on a ferry, is smitten, offers her a ride in his splendid chauffeured limo, tentatively moves his hand toward hers in the back seat, takes a deep breath, touches her hand, then exhales with relief when she doesn't push his hand away. [13 Nov 1992, p.32]

The movie doesn't make much narrative sense and its complicated flashback structure (which assumes some knowledge of Ivens' rather obscure film career) doesn't help. But the film is so delightful to the eye that we almost don't care. Like "The Lover," sometimes the visual pleasures of a visual medium can be enough. [13 Nov 1992]

The film makes effective use of the Vietnamese locations and the languid, somewhat decayed environment lends its own atmosphere of sensuality. [16 Sept 1992]

It's interesting to note that one of the most sensuous scenes in "The Lover" - which nearly received an NC-17 rating for its abundance of explicit lovemaking - takes place between two fully clothed people who very cautiously hold hands while riding in the back of a luxurious limousine. There is an electricity to that moment that is almost completely missing from the actual love scenes, which, like the entire film, are artfully photographed and subtly erotic, but which ultimately add little to a character study that could have used a little more (pardon the pun) fleshing out. [13 Nov 1992, p.3]