Critics reviews

The minimal décor (and its crucifixes, its harsh lights), the Melvillian color palette, the way Casar lies on her bed like an Edward Hopper subject: the film is less painterly than painted, with a dankness showing through the white matte of the domestic interior—a visual reminder, like the striped and textured background of a Francis Bacon canvas, of something fundamentally grim.

The film that would mark the apotheosis and nadir of the [New French Extremity] in its ludicrous combination of the Holy Trinity, Home Hardware and assorted orifices.

Anatomy of Hell forces the viewer to rethink the assumptions that society has forced upon us in an attempt to define female sexuality. Anatomy of Hell is therefore a revolutionary film, and one of the key works of early 20th century feminist cinema. It is proof that we won't shut up, and will not be silenced.

The surprise is that Siffredi's character is ultimately more vulnerable than the woman, because while she knows exactly what to expect from him, he's susceptible to her in ways he never could have predicted. Siffredi's performance is lovely, partly because of the languid expressiveness of his slightly droopy eyes. He's such a securely masculine presence that he doesn't need any phony macho affectations.

The most original and perhaps the most disturbing thing about Breillat’s poetic treatise on gynephobia is its unique juxtaposition of the cerebral and the visceral. This is a most radical exercise in erotic body horror—and, pace David Cronenberg, it may be the mode’s ultimate example.