Gaspar Noé spends a lot of time in this movie explicitly justifying its existence, but that doesn’t mean he’s made a particularly good version of what he’s trying to do. The plot unfolds mostly in flashback in Paris, as American film student Murphy (Karl Glosman)—now living with Omi (Klara Kristin), the mother of his young son—reflects on his previous relationship with French artist Electra (Aomi Muyock) after learning that she’s missing. Noé certainly dives right in to his sexually-explicit tale, opening on a shot of Murphy and Electra mutually pleasuring one another, and he uses his knack for vivid lighting to craft some fairly potent scenes of his characters, um, enjoying the physical act of love. But while he hands Murphy dialogue about the importance of “truly depict[ing] sentimental sexuality,” or praising porn performers that “these people are unafraid,” Noé is still stuck with actors who are more willing to get naked than they are able to deliver performances when their clothes are on. Admirable though the concept may be,
Love is far more successful at exposing genitals than at exposing hearts.
By
Scott Renshaw