Standing as Philip Emmenthal, from the film.
I first saw this film in September 1999 at the Toronto Film
Festival, and while I wanted to like it (then), I was only
luke-warm on it. Maybe it was the grueling pace of four films a
day -- the lack of sleep and the gnawing backache. Who can say?
But now a year has passed, and when the film finally visited
the rep cinema in my town, my appetite for a bizarre, stylized
confection about a man who populates his Genevan mansion with
women in need had returned in full. It's not as layered or
visually gorgeous as "The Pillow Book" or
"Prospero's Books", but I'll take it.
On returning from the theatre, my home seemed depressingly
8½ Women (IMDB)