Benedetta

Set in a 17th-century Italian convent against the backdrop of a plague epidemic, this erotic film about nuns is a rather uneven attempt to raise its B-movie foundation, drawing primarily on the tradition of Italian exploitation flicks with nuns (so-called “nunsploitation”), to the level of a top-tier festival film. Paul Verhoeven threw into it his trademarks and favorite obsessions including, for example, caustic irony, sadism and perversion, and feminism, in this case spiced up with a mocking critique of the Church as a hypocritical institution controlled by power interests and standing in the way of sexual freedom. We follow the story of a young nun, who is experiencing very vivid visions of manifestations of Christ and undergoing a lesbian awakening with a newly arrived novice, from her childhood in a series of sacrilegious escapades, whose true origins are shrouded in mystery (perhaps a divine miracle, maybe just an act with a profit-seeking objective) and are the driving force of the entire film. Through most of its runtime, the film veers between a low-brow black-humor farce about the abuse of believers’ gullibility (with flatulence, defecation, playful pornographic motifs and the figure of Jesus Christ in the role of protector, who fearlessly decapitates enemies and beasts) and an agonizing serious drama with classical music and naturalistic violence, dealing with a delirious woman prone to self-harm and the negative impacts of fanatical faith. The clash of these two tonally contradictory approaches is quite problematic and unsatisfying, but perhaps that doesn’t matter to Verhoeven, as he probably just wanted to have a good romp and be a bit provocative and outrageous, which he succeeded in doing. Because of that, Benedetta falls into the category of borderline guilty-pleasure entertainment suitable for midnight festival screenings that will divide audiences, and in which the acting highlight is not the performances of the actresses portraying the lesbian couple, but that of Charlotte Rampling in the supporting (though essential and noteworthy) role of the sceptical mother superior. (2021-09-03)

Benedetta has spent most of her life in a convent, but now besides God, she started to love Bartolomea... what initially appears as a drama about forbidden love, in Paul Verhoeven's direction turns into a provocative and unpredictable story that opens up a lot of interesting topics and cleverly manipulates with the audience, their expectations, and the way it processes what happens to the protagonists on the screen. Equally daring, cynical, clever, and entertaining as the director's greatest classics. (2021-11-22)

On the verge of Verhoeven! But only at the borders of the Schengen area, so that overseas, Catholic groups don't pelt him with stones, and the intimacy coordinator who annoys Sean Bean doesn't disrupt filming. Whether there's a chopper under Benedetta's bed for the stigmata, whether the plague sores reveal flesh and blood, or whether the showgirl from the Tuscan convent climbs the right rungs of the career ladder isn't really important when Paul feels like a little kid who can do whatever he wants. That lecherous old man in the director's chair may have aching hips, but he hasn't lost his magical subversiveness. (2022-08-11)

Judging by the reviews and comments, Verhoeven has a specific charm through which he can surprise the viewer with every film he makes by how he deconstructs something, even though he's basically been doing nothing else his whole life. Whatever he touches – genre, society, period, zeitgeist, character studies, or the subject matter – he dissects down to the flesh, laughs nihilistically, drops the mic, and heads off for some other revision. Benedetta is an interesting blend of his earlier Flesh+Blood, (an exploitation of a medieval era full of filthy bandits, plagues, degenerate church representatives, and naked harlots) Showgirls/Keetje Tippel (an ambitious woman uses her body to rise on the backs of others in an emeritus, ossified world) and Basic Instinct (ambivalence and uncertainty about where the truth lies and whether it should be sought out is maintained until the very end). And I was intrigued by the extent to which it treats the theme of religious ecstasy as an erotic experience in a similar way to Besson's The Messenger: The Story of Joan of Arc. Verhoeven's last two films under French productions have been marked by clearly the best scripts he's ever had, but unfortunately also the ugliest direction. Benedetta often looks like footage from a musical, looking terribly staged and artificial. It's funny, then, that the erotic passages work best in this framework, as they're reminiscent of the usual porn videos you have open on the next tab. (2022-03-09)

A harrowing two hours. Basic Instinct was also bold, unpredictable and full of eroticism, but it was made by a filmmaker at the peak of his powers, not an old man who obviously has a head full of shit even in his 80s and is trying his best to translate it to the screen in the most controversial style possible, but unfortunately that's about it. (2021-12-17)