um, ok. well. yes. ahem.

    Just watched Last Tango in Paris, which I requested by interlibrary loan at the behest of Nick. He'd attempted to acquire it through that method but encountered difficulties in the process, but I assured him that I could get it. Indeed, I did, though it happened about three weeks too late. Since I had a free evening, I decided to see what the fuss was about.

    Now I know what the fuss was about.
    Greasy-haired middle-aged Marlon Brando is grieving the suicide of his wife in 1970s Paris. He meets slutty 20-something wastrel Maria Schneider

and they have almost fully clothed sex within about 5 minutes of their non-introduction. They never do exchange names, but they exchange pretty much everything else. Bodily speaking, I mean. It is the typical "rated X" movie, with full frontal nudity on the chick (she's, er, not going to get cold on a long winter night, so don't worry about it being "too frontal") and a single long-range moon shot on the guy.
     There's a handful of sex scenes, some decent harmonica, a rather nice film-within-a-film subplot, and a really graphic suicide clean-up. Oh, yeah, and Brando deep-throats a dead rat the size of a poodle.
     It's fucking weird, pretty graphic (both for "sexuality" and what I might term "sexual violence"), and surely worth seeing if you're curious about why people say Brando's a good actor. He's not all stereotype here. Just...well, only if you've a strong stomach.
"Beauty of mine, sit before me. Let me peruse you and remember you...always like this."