I try and make it a habit to write something about every Bunuel film I see, if only to organize my thoughts and somehow make sense of what I just watched.
Belle de Jour is a particularly difficult one to figure out. A sexually frustrated housewife, Severine (Catherine Deneuve), hears that one of her friends is working as a prostitute in a Paris whorehouse. Her husband's creepy friend Husson (a briliant Michel Piccoli) gives her the address of a whorehouse that he knows of, and she is soon working afternoons, given the stage-name "Belle de Jour," or, a flower that blooms in the afternoon (because she can only work until 3, or else her husband will come home and find that she has been boning random high-class tourists).
Severine is haunted by sadomasochistic desires, and some of which include whips, bells, and gang-rape--Bunuel tastefully displays her visions with his trademark minimalist efficiency, only showing what needs to be shown to get his point across. It is these desires that lead Severine to the brothel, despite the fact that she cannot even bring herself to have sex with her husband.
It is difficult to decipher Severine's dreams and her reality, as they become increasingly intertwined in her new double-life, in which lustful abandon leads her to an affair with a young, brooding gangster. She is often shown being willingly punished for her decadence, although it is usually only her depraved imagination rendering such events on screen; however, in an early whorehouse scene, she submits to a client only after being forced upon the bed and held down ("Ah, you like it rough..."). Bunuel never delves very deep into the reality of Belle's apparent sadomasochism, but the tension she displays in sexual advances makes it obvious (along with her increasingly surreal dreams).
What's interesting about the film is the fact that Bunuel does not merely focus on sexual degeneracy, but on the liberty and subsequent guilt that Severine feels in her actions. Bunuel seems to be advocating prostitution in many ways; Belle de Jour loves her work, has fun, and is increasingly upbeat as she delves deeper and deeper into the profession. He almost seems to be suggesting that sexual connection between two people can be felt vicariously; Severine says she feels "closer than ever" to her husband Pierre, even though she denies his repeated advances and then proceeds to fornicate with the next man that strolls into the whorehouse. He loves to focus on this...on the look of intense pleasure on her face after an encounter, or on her impatience to return to her work. She says that she can't help but go back, and Bunuel seems to smile and say "But is that such a bad thing?"
Obviously, things go wrong--the guilt relieves her of her dreams, and she no longer feels the need to fulfill her sadistic desires. However, there is much more to the film than that; every nuance of meaning that Bunuel can throw in is used in surreal, minimalist fashion. His movies are a film-lover's joy, if they are willing to sift through the story to find the cynical, smiling auteur behind it, beckoning us to see life through his eyes.
Belle de jour (1967)