Secret Things (Jean-Claude
Brisseau, 2002)
Equal parts Olivier Assays’ demonlover and Howard Hawks’ Gentlemen
Prefer Blondes, Jean-Claude Brisseau’s Secret
Things is an exaggerated fable of sexual politics and comic elegance. Filled
with one jaw-dropping sequence after another, each one elevating the stakes in
its fiercely competitive battle of the sexes, Secret Things assumes hilariously operatic dimensions by the time it
reaches its third act, and only grows more audacious from there. The opening
scene’s cock-tease and the revelation of the audience that follows accurately
suggest that the film will gladly leave logic at the door if it might better
provoke, and provoke it does. Telling the story of an unlikely friendship of two
seemingly opposite women as they fuck their way to the top of the social ladder,
Secret Things might not be politically
correct, or even that relevant to the real world, but it certainly addresses
(and possibly indulges in) a certain type of male fantasy that is all too common
in cinema.
After the manager at the club the two of them work at tries
to promote himself to pimp, man-eating stripper Nathalie (Coralie Revel) and
timid barmaid Sandrine (Sabrina Seyvecou) quit their jobs and quickly befriend
one another. Sandrine confesses that she’s long admired Nathalie’s ability
to pleasure herself in front of a crowd, and soon an under-the-cover
masturbation session becomes Sandrine’s debut, of sorts. The two quickly begin
upping the ante by walking the streets naked but for long jackets and by
pleasuring themselves in front of strangers. Masturbation here becomes an ends
to a means; a stimulant devised to ensnare those that take pleasure in watching
the act, and one could suggest that Brisseau employs similar tactics with his
audience. By the time the women apply their techniques to the game of corporate
ladder-climbing, the film has become a challenging examination of gender
relationships. Self-pleasure begins as self-realization here and onanism is a
form of empowerment, but it soon becomes obvious how the seemingly harmless sex
games that are played are part of a larger power-struggle. The moment a man
realizes a woman is playing with herself on a subway platform, the mood shifts,
both between the characters and the audience members watching the film.
Suddenly, this harmless exhibitionism is making suppositions on behalf of the
voyeur. To put it more succinctly, self-abuse grants power to these women, who
promptly begin to abuse that power. As the women rise in ranks, they grow
bolder, and the games that they play only take on a greater charge.
In Secret Things, everyone’s
so forthright about their sexual proclivities and mindgames that the movie
scarcely has subtext. At one point early in the film, Nathalie blithely recalls
how her mother compared the battle of the sexes to the class struggle.
Inevitably, the story moves in that direction as it develops. The elaborate plan
hatched by the two women early on to use their sexual prowess and smarts to rise
in stature is explained in detail, and much of the film details, almost
predictably, how that plan comes to fruition. Of course, Brisseau tosses in a
few surprises, and the sense of danger grows more tenable as the stakes are
raised. Real tension begins to emerge once Christophe (Fabrice Deville) enters
the scene. Presented as the women’s ultimate target, this rich playboy
incessantly uses women, apparently breaking them to the point where they
immolate themselves. As Nathalie and Sandrine move into his world, the movie
grows increasingly baroque. Two sequences, one featuring incest by proxy, the
other an orgy similar to the one in Eyes
Wide Shut, especially hammer home the class differences that exist here, if
only because their level of perversity seems beyond those who have to concern
themselves with worldly pursuits. The great joke of the movie is that he’s no
different than bar owner in the film’s first sequence who wants the two women
to whore themselves to a customer, except in that he has the power to turn his
fantasies into reality. Furthermore, as appalling as Christophe is, there’s no
escaping the feeling that Nathalie and Sandrine’s attempts to use sex to
reduce him to their pawn are just as vindictive. When Secret Things ends, it appropriately questions what it is that these
women are really after and if they’ve achieved anything at all.
80
02-20-04
Jeremy Heilman
