Bertolucci's woefully self-indulgent tale of a teenage ménageàtrois in Paris, 1968 is hampered by the preening self-obsession of his main characters, despite the director's lush cinematography. They lounge in the bath talking about cinema and stroking each other while the city burns. By the end, y...
Bertolucci’s woefully self-indulgent tale of a teenage ménageàtrois in Paris, 1968 is hampered by the preening self-obsession of his main characters, despite the director’s lush cinematography. They lounge in the bath talking about cinema and stroking each other while the city burns. By the end, you’re wishing the riot police had moved in earlier.
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