The film which "altered an art from", Bernardo Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris remains the greatest film ever made about true sexual desire, a film so revolutionary in its depictions of sex that it prompted the quote with which I open this summary (from Pauline Kael, no less). Starring a Top-Five Marlon Brando performance - and easily his most personal one - the film is infamous for its "butter scene", which, if you haven't seen the picture, will make absolutely no sense until you do. Elsewhere, though, the film is about far more than its shock factor, and scenes of Brando lambasting his dead wife before breaking down at her coffin-side, or scenes of Brando and co-star Maria Schneider in bed, naked, making primal animal noises at each other, beautify the film, lend it heart to compliment its searing sexuality. Hidden way down near the bottom of the drama page on Netflix, in amongst the garbage, Last Tango in Paris is an emotionally staggering work, a pure meditation on our most primary human desire. Note: I'd usually never encourage somebody to skip certain parts of a movie, but here you truly can, so: skip the pointless parts that involve Schneider and her boyfriend, they are meaningless, they take away from the film. Last Tango in Paris is about the central relationship, and for every second that it's not being explored, the film's genius is wasted.
