Three actresses prepare to go on the road in a theater production of Lysistrata, Aristophanes' classic comic play about women and war. As they re-assess and deal with the problems in their ...
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Max von Sydow
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Three actresses prepare to go on the road in a theater production of Lysistrata, Aristophanes' classic comic play about women and war. As they re-assess and deal with the problems in their respective private lives, they recognize the parallels with the play and begin to realize that it is serious - even tragic - after all. Written by
Badly dated, but extraordinary parade of beautiful actresses
The production year says it all. The movie is a marauding mess of politically correct leftwing feministic selfappreciating drivel, of a so heavyhanded symbolic variety that comes across as ridiculous today. Every scene has the purpose of shedding light on one of the burning issues of society, mainly the role of females in the working community, the role of women vs men, women as sex objects, consumerism, politics, war, etc. Every scene is commented upon by the inner dialogue of one of the main actresses, or by turning the scene into a surrealistic joke. I have no reminiscence of any plot, or who the main characters actually were. It is the sort of movie, where consumerism is mocked by having a couple make love in a furniture store sales window while the sales agent delivers his speech, or where a revealing interview of a stage actress turns into a fullblown striptease act, for "of course" the offensive gentlemen of the press is the equal to a raunchy club audience. Then we move swiftly on, as we need to see war erupt in a peaceful forest, we need to see multiple inflammatory feministic public speeches being drowned in the (male) blowing of cars horns or rioting crowds, and of course we need to see cinema newsreels of Stalin and all the other usual suspects. You get the idea. But all this does not matter at all. The movie is an unsurpassed piece of eyecandy for any (male) Ingmar Bergman aficionado. A movie boasting leads Bibi Andersson, Harriet Andersson and Gunnel Lindblom at the height of their beauty makes this reviewer surrender completely and just drivel and also delight in watching them so generously use their acting skills in a movie I had never heard about before today. It is hard to believe how especially the face of Bibi Andersson owns the screen every single time she appears. The cinematography is gorgeously orchestrated bw, often revelling in an overexposed (?) dimensionless whitishness, and you just never grow tired of watching the performers. How absurd, that a movie made with so much consideration for the feministic agenda, tirelessly advocating that women should not be viewed as merely an object of desire, has nothing better to offer the 21st century viewer than a parade of stunningly beautiful babes. As mentioned, I am not complaining. I could rewatch it tomorrow.
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