Baise-moi

Baise-Moi is, frankly, dreadful. Years ago, I had a flatmate who was obsessed with it—I’ve never understood why. Even setting aside the sex and violence, what remains is a shoddy mess: it looks and sounds like an early 2000s daytime soap, complete with a dreadful soundtrack and incidental music and performances that barely convince. The direction is apathetic at best. I watched it on an old DVD still bearing the BBFC’s cuts, so perhaps the visuals suffered there—but even Arrow’s restoration can’t polish this particular turd. Yes, the sexual violence still shocks, mainly due to how casually it’s presented. But in the near quarter-century since its release, the film’s once-infamous brutality has been easily surpassed—leaving Baise-Moi exposed as little more than a provocateur with nothing to say. It appears the only reason this film exists is to annoy and piss off the censors—it’s neither exciting, titillating, nor remotely captivating.