My 1st wife puked after 30 minutes of this film in 1966, as she did after about the same amount of Riefenstahl's Triumph of the Will. Mademoiselle herself was sadistic, while being afraid of her sadism. She was extremely alluring to a twisted mind like mine. Moreau plays her to creepy perfection. My wife looked at me in a different way afterwards, since I finished the movie, so if one is married it might be better to see the movie separately. The drowning of farm animals is the least of the psychological challenges with this film. You do learn what I tried to tell my 30-yr-old daughter three years ago, that "The French have no moral center," for which I got chewed out. But you see that every day, and there is plenty to read about it in history. Medecins sans Frontieres somewhat redeems them.
Review of Mademoiselle
