Jacques Nolot

The world-weary cashier (Vittoria Scognamiglio) at this theater of ill repute has seen it all, and the pigeons soiling her sidewalk are far more annoying to her than the parade of tranny hustlers and desperate perverts who head down the steep flight of stairs (a Hell symbol?) into the theater. She enjoys regaling the hunky young new-in-town projectionist (Sébastien Viala) with tales of her wanton youth while she knocks back shots of whiskey and sympathizes with the constant complaints of the bitchy drag queens who visit daily. One has to give her credit: She really seems to enjoy her work.

Continue reading: Porn Theatre Review

Charlotte Rampling puts a dignified face on denial in "Under the Sand," a cinematic meditation on the multitude of emotions that come with the devastating loss of a loved one.

She plays Marie, a 50-something, upper middle-class woman whose comfortable life of familiar rhythms is thrown out of balance when her husband disappears while she's napping at the beach during their regular summer vacation.

Not entirely willing to presume he's drown, and somewhat tormented by the lack of closure, Marie returns to teaching her English Lit class at a Paris university and goes about her life imagining her husband is still alive. At dinner parties she speaks of him as if he stayed at home with a cold that night, which rattles her friends who don't know quite how to respond. When she goes home, she imagines him still there and conjures up daydreams of continued normalcy. When she's making breakfast she pours him coffee. When she's shopping she buys him ties.

Continue reading: Under The Sand Review