The Duke of Burgundy

Peter Strickland's "The Duke of Burgundy" is a surprisingly linear, straightforward love story that explores an element of BDSM that has remained relatively unexplored in the movies up until this point; the perspective of the person who desires to be dominated. We've had (most famously) the man who desires to dominate (although most people would rightly discredit that), and we've also had the union of one who must serve, and one who must dominate (Steven Shainberg's "Secretary"). Here we have someone for whom the desire to be dominated is an all-encompassing hole in her very being; she can't live without it.

The film begins in the expected manner; Cynthia (Sidse Babett Knudsen) arrives at the house of her lover, Evelyn (Chiara D'Anna), who in a series of stilted and terse conversations, orders her to perform actions of servitude, such as cleaning her study, rubbing her feet, washing her lingerie, and so on. Cynthia is young, impish, somewhat reminiscent of a young Audrey Tautou; we can't initially tell if she's enjoying this treatment, but she complies nevertheless. Evelyn is stern, approaching the stereotypically cross schoolteacher.

We find out a little about the pair; they live in the countryside, and Evelyn is a lepidopterist who gives talks at a local institute. Then, we see the opening sequence again, but bookended  by Evelyn's preparation; she is wearing a wig, and is following orders written on a piece of card, given to her by Cynthia. Evelyn is, in fact, much more nervous than she appears to let on. Her face is a picture of the concealment of panic and discomfort, her eyes flit, her mouth is drawn.

From here the film explores the true nature of their relationship, with Evelyn doing her very best to accommodate all of Cynthia's desires. Where the film is a triumph is in its refusal to shy away from the true nature of their union, and the way Cynthia's need to be dominated seems to come from an insatiable place deep inside her. To this end, this is the most honest film yet made about BDSM, and anybody who finds themselves with a lover into kink, or who is into kink themselves, should watch it, because it will inspire the right conversations, and it asks just how far you can, or should, go for someone you love. It understands the rituals and routines that people in the lifestyle fall into. To someone who doesn't have the desire for kink inside them, the acts can seem cruel, unusual, and impossible to enjoy. It is this truth that the film understands deeply, and explores with insight and verve.

It helps that the film has a real technical calibre; Peter Strickland, who impressed with Berberian Sound Studio, here cements his place as a British director with vision, a more humanistic Ben Wheatley, He creates a world to live in with this film, a spacious house with luscious overgrown greenery adorning the outside, and musty closets and old leatherbound books adorning the inside, and a vast forest surrounding them. Pater Sparrow's production design and Zsuzsa Mihalek's set design are a triumph in themselves. The score from the band "Cat's Eyes" works as though the film was made around it, which is the highest compliment you can give to a film score. And the cinematography is sumptuous, a fantasia of rich colours and stark, moody lighting.

And at the centre are the two performances, from Knudsen and D'Anna, as two people desperate to please, and even more desperate to be pleased. They are, at their core, two people who are deeply in love, much like everyone else. I was not being contrarian when I said the film was a love story; look at the structure, and it becomes apparent how conventional it is, with the exception of the nightmare sequence beginning with the zoom between Evelyn's legs (you'll know it; a little on the nose, but still spellbinding).

More than anything, it understands that just because you're the one with the whip doesn't make you the person in control; people who need to dominate are actually much rarer than the other way around, and reaching some kind of equilibrium on the topic requires negotiating, empathy, and understanding. In turn, the film understands this, and it follows this theme with logic and remorselessness. This is a classical work of great technical and emotional mastery, deeply rewarding, perversely beautiful, and above all, honest.