Ana is confronted to Body and Desire at three key moments of her life. Her carnal search that sways between reality and colored fantasies is becoming more and more oppressive. Where will this chaotic and carnivorous journey leave her? —Transilvania International Film Festival
In retrospect, Amer almost resembles a precursor of sorts to Nymphomaniac, only framed through a modern giallo lens, and with the genre reimagined as a sort of perverted feminist awakening - giallo and its morbid, masochistic fantasies as filling the emotional and sexual void. As an arc conveyed purely through its exceedingly slick, stylish palette, its heady reliance on aesthetics occasionally threatens to reduce the resulting fable, despite its enigmatic airs, to a vacuous, vague and slight exercise, save only for its sheer cosmetic prowess.
For a film oozing with as much stylistic sexuality as Amer, I thought I'd love it, but it's a little too aimless in its surrealism for its own good. It relies way too heavily on its aesthetic and this immense longing to be like its influences. Nevertheless some cool editing makes it more interesting than not, but it does drag at times and would benefit from some semblance of a narrative to guide it along comfortably.
A joy as much as it is a chore. Stunning in its ability to float about amusingly. Revolting in how little it accomplishes. Giallo influences however do not make a giallo. I doubt that was their intent but one feels a bit let down and wondering why if it had no intention of following through with his references. On its own, functional.
Just as All Saints Day follows Halloween, so, too, does Claude Chabrol's quiet and gentle final film follow a raucous batch of scary stuff;
"Austin's most prolific fraternal pairing, the Zellner Bros, are men of many accents," writes Kimberley Jones, introducing her brief interview