An astringent erotic fable swollen with poisonous humor, 1975’s Playing With Fire is perhaps one of Alain Robbe-Grillet’s more minor works, but it provokes and unsettles the way the best of his films do. The famed auteur, godfather of France’s Nouveau Roman literary movement, had long been known for his high-brow surrealism that explored, without abandon, his erotic proclivities. Teetering precariously on the precipice of his most base yearnings, Robbe-Grillet would intellectualize the kind of sadomasochistic desires found in cheap pulps with a kind of naval-gazing intensity that could frustrate the most patient viewer.
Alain Robbe-Grillet’s greatest claim to fame, and therefore his greatest achievement, is his Oscar-nominated screenplay for Last Year at Marienbad (1961), one of the most important cornerstones of surrealist cinema. Between many groundbreaking novels of the Nouveau Roman movement (1953’s The Erasers and 1957’s Jealousy), Robbe-Grillet would expand on his cinematic activities that would stretch the possibilities of narrative even further with his tonal and structural experiments. Robbe-Grillet wasn’t always successful in his endeavors, but his creations were always very interesting.
The best of his film works, L’Immortelle (1963), The Man Who Lies (1968), and La Belle Captive (1983), showcase what he did best visually: exploring narratives that are often upended with structural eclipses or patterned repetitiously – drawing viewers deceptively into unexpected emotional apertures. Robbe-Grillet’s panache and way with visuals were so fine-tuned and elegantly drafted that the exploitation in his work often seemed like an afterthought.
True enough, despite some accusations of softcore pretensions from the angrier quarters who reviewed his work, the filmmaker certainly had more on his mind than just sexual contravention. Memory, a common theme in his work, is often used to reorder ideas of assembly and arrangement. If one can follow the logic of Robbe-Grillet’s designs closely enough, one can see how the sexual discourses are merely boundaries he sets up between the psychological and emotional motives of human behavior.
Playing With Fire marks a curious effort when considered in today’s scope of cancel culture. It is hopelessly dated, likely to offend in many aspects, and dismissive of the feminist wave that was cresting during its initial release in 1975. Yet, it compels nonetheless and invites viewers to indulge in a kind of rubbernecking spectatorship of other people’s dark and depraved fantasies. It is shameless in that it doesn’t hold back, and that boldness gives the film its polarizing power.
Robbe-Grillet’s story follows a young woman kidnapped at a train station one morning. Forced into a box and transported to an unknown destination, we witness a series of overlapping timeframes that, little by little, expose the backstory. The woman in question is Carolina (Anicée Alvina), who is being held for ransom. In a turn of events, Carolina makes her way home, only to have her father (Phillipe Noiret), a wealthy banker, turn the tables on her and hold her captive in a paternal act of protection.
Sent to a clinic by her father, Carolina meets with several so-called doctors and nurses. But upon exploration, she soon discovers her new living quarters may be a mysterious and clandestine brothel catering to the upper crust. A detective (Jean-Louis Trintignant) tries to assist in Carolina’s escape. However, the delusive, dreamlike sequences of the narrative ensure that no one person can ever be wholly trusted.
Playing With Fire‘s narrative, a byzantine construction that presses on the comedy of the absurd, refers to Robbe-Grillet’s greatest strength as an instigator of sequential chaos; with each successive flip on the story, the sexual violence rings crueler, and the viewer’s comfort level is gradually tested, anxiously inching toward the threshold of tolerance. The filmmaker challenges viewers to partake in the humor, placating the atmosphere of violence and sexual depravity through a pointedly refined art direction that hones the stagecraft to an opulent set piece.
Robbe-Grillet’s visuals are easy on the eyes, but they only throw the exploitative elements into stark relief when they are backdropped by such stylishness. Meanwhile, grand guignol double-crosses promise dramatic ironies in the story, but audiences are baited with a host of narrative traps, further congesting the plot. Such linear disruption can only alienate an audience already stymied by the sex on display.
Robbe-Grillet doesn’t make Playing With Fire easy viewing, but he always makes it a fascinating and disturbing one that forces us to make moral judgements on what constitutes defensible entertainment. Within the scope of the current cancel culture, the film holds more sway as a work of dissension, the polemics even stronger when sized up against questions of the cinematic male gaze, which Robbe-Grillet here is unabashed and unapologetic in maintaining.
How does one “enjoy” a film like Playing With Fire when its story and humor are so hopelessly out of step with today’s culture and attitudes? How does one appreciate its aesthetic? The film’s appeal has narrowed significantly in the last 50 years since its release, leaving such a work to the more adventurous and curious sort. It is for those who understand that Robbe-Grillet’s work is always an alchemy of sorts, distilling ideas and compulsions down to a solution meant to provoke and disturb.
Cult Epics’ Blu-ray delivers a strong 2K HD transfer (from the original negative) that renders the images clean, sharp, and vibrant. The colors are full and rich, and they bristle healthily onscreen. Sound and dialogue are also clear, and the disc features optional English subtitles. Supplements include an interview with Robbe-Grillet’s wife, Catherine Robbe-Grillet, and an audio commentary with film critic Tim Lucas. The film is in the French language.
Playing With Fire is not an easy recommendation for audiences at large, as the material is certain to raise more than a few eyebrows amongst those who have strong opinions on the matters of sexual politics in today’s cultural climate. Rather, this one is strictly for the established fanbase of Robbe-Grillet, who are well acquainted with the auteur’s work (and appreciate it). Love it or hate it, however, Playing With Fire outlines a style that is all the filmmaker’s own: combining the erotic film with the thriller, the mystery, and the madcap comedy, Robbe-Grillet fashions something entirely else altogether with the elements of his choosing.