A Dangerous Method
This was unquestionably the most anticipated film release of my life. Since the first time I heard Cronenberg was making a film about Jung and Freud starring Fassbender, Knightley, and Mortensen, not a day has gone by without it crossing my mind. All parties are absolutely ideal for the extremely graphic themes of sexuality that are part and parcel of Jung/Freud’s work; they’re unafraid, intelligent, nuanced powerhouses who are unfairly gorgeous.
A Dangerous Method was incredible. It was alive and sharp and beautiful. The pacing was exquisite; there was no unimportant scene. Nothing was explained to death or drawn out, heightening the intellectual appeal.
It wasn’t perfect, though, as I’d hoped and assumed it would be. It was missing about thirty minutes of graphic sexual content. The brevity of each sexual scene was clearly deliberate, but I cannot agree with it. The power of sex was masterfully interwoven into every shot, and clung to every word. I needed to see that power, unabridged, in the sexual relationship between those two people.
The film was amazing, but when I think about what it could have been … I realize I’m biting my lip and have been lost in thought for an indeterminate amount of time.
