|
|
The Centre Of The World
on DVD
|
|
Brief synopsis of The Centre Of The World
Wayne Wang, although known for his personal drama about Chinese-American life, EAT A BOWL OF TEA, and the Hollywood equivalent, THE JOY LUCK CLUB, has always harbored a fascination with the depiction of sex in the movies. The director remarked, "In college I loved movies like LAST TANGO IN PARIS." Here, in his first digital video feature, he provides, like Bertolucci, a raw and unflinching look at love, sex and money. Working with a script he developed with Siri Hustvedt and Paul Auster, he tells the story of Richard (Peter Sarsgaard), a wealthy dot-com computer engineer who hires Florence (Molly Parker), a dancer at a strip club, to spend three days with him in Las Vegas. She provides a contract limiting her duties to a nightly erotic show, but with no actual sex. But as they develop real feelings for each other both of them are confused about the meaning that sex would have. Richard thinks it will make her his girlfriend, Florence thinks it will make her a prostitute. While this story line may seem borrowed from the comedy PRETTY WOMAN, this is a serious, intelligent film. It's intriguing script is enhanced by the visceral immediacy of the digital video photography. Overall, CENTER OF THE WORLD is an exploration of the politics and emotions that are tied to the struggle between men, women, sex, and money. The script was written by Wang, Auster, and Hustvedt but it is credited to Ellen Wong, a pseudonym that encompasses their collective work.
|
Related
Critics Reviews
Radio Times
It's a sad fact that the naturalism and intimacy of the digital video format encourages directors to focus on “breaking down the barriers” at the expense of actual storytelling. Wayne Wang's disappointing character study is a case in point: it's an inert, lifeless exploration of the Las Vegas weekend shared by a rich but lonely computer mogul (Peter Sarsgaard) and the uninhibited stripper (Molly Parker) he pays to “entertain” him. Despite the film's candour and Parker's admirable willingness to put complete trust in her director, we are permanently distanced from these self-obsessed characters, and the attempt at psychological depth feels as fake and contrived as Vegas itself. Despite its art house trappings and intellectual ambitions, this is no more profound or revealing than your average late-night sex feature.
Members Reviews
Reviews Voted Most Helpful
Most Recent Reviews
|
|
