I thought this was an extraordinarily beautiful film. The care and complexity of the cinematography was truly breathtaking. The acting was superb as well. I couldn't help feeling, though, that the emotion at the core (Kinsky's "love" of Shandurai) was more an evocation of an older man's (Bertolucci's) fantasy world of women. I found the emotional exploitation of Shandurai unpardonable. Here is a woman who has lost everything, and then gives up her respect and dignity because her employer gets her husband out of jail (the image of her sneaking into his bed, giving herself to him like a servant was belittling). I would have found the film truly bittersweet and empowering had Kinsky sacrificed so much and gained nothing.
