Femme Fatale (2002)

User Rating:

6.3/10   

Director:

Brian De Palma

Writer (WGA):

Brian De Palma (written by)

Release Date:

6 November 2002 (USA)

Genre:

Crime | Thriller

Tagline:

Nothing is more desirable or more deadly than a woman with a secret

Plot:

A woman tries to straighten out her life, even as her past as a con-woman comes back to haunt her.

Plot Keywords:

Identity | Cannes | Photographer | Ambassador | Suicide

Awards:

1 win & 1 nomination

US TV Schedule:

Mon. July 6

9:00 AM

MAX

Cast

Rebecca Romijn	...	Laure / Lily (as Rebecca Romijn-Stamos)
Antonio Banderas	...	Nicolas Bardo
Peter Coyote	...	Watts
Eriq Ebouaney	...	Black Tie
Edouard Montoute	...	Racine
Rie Rasmussen	...	Veronica
Thierry Frémont	...	Serra (as Thierry Fremont)
Gregg Henry	...	Shiff
Fiona Curzon	...	Stanfield Phillips
Daniel Milgram	...	Pierre / Bartender
Jean-Marc Minéo	...	Seated Guard (as Jean-Marc Mineo)
Jean Chatel	...	Cannes Commentator
Stéphane Petit	...	Bodyguard One (as Stephane Petit)
Olivier Follet	...	Bodyguard Two
Eva Darlan	...	Irma

MPAA:

Rated R for strong sexuality, violence and language.

Runtime:

114 min

Country:

France

Language:

English | French

Color:

Color

Aspect Ratio:

1.85 : 1

Sound Mix:

DTS | Dolby Digital | SDDS

Certification:

Canada:13+ (Quebec) | Canada:14 (Nova Scotia) | Canada:18A (Alberta/British Columbia) | Canada:AA (Ontario) | Canada:PA (Manitoba) | Switzerland:16 (canton of Zurich) | Iceland:16 | Finland:K-15 | Portugal:M/12 | South Korea:18 | Singapore:M18 (re-rating) | Argentina:13 | Australia:MA | Brazil:16 | Chile:14 | France:U | Germany:16 | Netherlands:16 | New Zealand:R18 | Norway:15 | Peru:14 | Singapore:R(A) | Spain:13 | Sweden:15 | Switzerland:16 (canton of Geneva) | Switzerland:16 (canton of Vaud) | UK:15 | USA:R | Philippines:R-18

Filming Locations:

Cannes, Alpes-Maritimes, France

Company:

Epsilon Motion Pictures

Trivia:

Uma Thurman was originally cast as Laure Ash, but cancelled when she became pregnant.

Goofs:

Continuity: The envelope and passport change their relative positions in Laure's hand between shots during the climactic scene.

Quotes:

Lily: Bad people read newspapers too.

Movie Connections:

Spoofed in Film Geek (2005)

Soundtrack:

My Ideal

[Corrected after Guidelines] Femme Fatale: A Referential Masterpiece Fated to Be Dismissed by Derivative Critics

Ironic, isn't it, that so many mainstream critics should dismiss De Palma as derivative of Hitchcock without realizing their critical assessment is itself unoriginal, is derivative in the thoughtless elementary way that De Palma himself avoids in his best films. Femme Fatale happens to be one of his best. In fact, it is his best film since Raising Cain (which references Powell's Peeping Tom far more than Hitchcock's Psycho, thank you very much).

Get it right, echolaliacs of the mirrored keyboard: your criticism is derivative and De Palma's films are referential. What's the difference, you ask? I'll spell it out: De Palma references other films in obvious ways calculated to *remind the audience of the sources referenced* (not to pass them off as his own), in the same way that Ovid uses classical mythology in Metamorphoses, or Huysmans incorporates encyclopedic knowledge in A Rebours. It is De Palma's spin on that material, his retelling, that makes the difference. Whereas critics who cry *derivative* are parrot fanboys echoing deadeningly familiar voices.

If De Palma were truly derivative, then Femme Fatale's retelling of the dream of Ophelia with shades of Double Indemnity would just be that, in the sense that Killing Zoe and The Last Seduction are cramped regurgutations of classic noir. But it isn't: The structure is nothing like a retelling of either, though it takes care to reference paradigmatic images and speeches in order to twist them. De Palma's is an original story, not a retelling with an obligatory twist.

Americans seem not to know what to do with deliberately artificial fare like Femme Fatale or, for that matter, Eyes Wide Shut. They bemoan the fact that "real people don't talk that way," or "Paris/New York/[fill in the location] isn't really like that," as if that were the point. The best thing to do with good De Palma (the rare film he actually writes himself) is to revel in the artificiality and choreographed depravity. De Palma himself, scholar in a greasy raincoat, certainly does.