This film in 2004 shot in Spain is typical of the freewheel anti-ethical period that started in 1968 in the world, France included, and went on for longer in Spain than anywhere else after the fall of Franco and the reopening of the country to democracy. In 2004 in the world, France included, this nonchalant total freedom was very present in Spanish films by Spanish authors, directors and artists. This film then is an exception: the most Spanish French film. Such promiscuity, wrapped up in incest and sadomasochistic practices, mostly against males who, young or not, are raped and tortured for the pleasure of women, mostly, at the time. There is a #METOO that should be developed to bring such practices down forever. Women leading in those days the band of delirious imaginations they practiced targeting males, from boys to young males, as their preys for extreme pleasure that included suffering and torturing of the males of course. They reinvented Mengele. Nowadays it is a testimony that there has been, more than was because of still remnants of it in the present, a generally accepted past we cannot be proud of, though some women and men, are still dreaming about it, no longer really doing it, except in some closed-up houses of ill repute, but phantasms are hard to die in the minds of human beings that make the line between good and bad as fuzzy as possible, and they ignore that poetry, literature, arts in general, and even, music are not a model for everyday behavior. In such a situation, the backlash can be extremely brutal.

2. ISABELLE HUPPERT –
MA MÈRE – 2004
Un petit film. Le plus espagnol de tous les films français sur la sexualité en famille et autour.
La provocation visuelle est limitée, en dernière analyse, à quelques scènes dorsales, une ou deux
très brèves vision du frontal du fils de cette mère, et une paire de scènes de naturiste
probablement gay. Le reste n’est que de la gymnastique de ce qu’on en voit, mais avec des
allusions plus ou moins dissimulées de sado-masochisme ou de simple masochisme pervers. Le
jeune homme qui se prête à ce jeu n’en meurt pas mais il aurait pu, tellement il était menotté,
étranglé, fouetté – pour ne pas salir la cravache de la dame – et le reste n'est pas montré. La mère
justement dans son jeu final se donnera à son fils dans un acte de sadomasochisme extrême et
elle sortira directement pour la morgue ou son fils revivra sur le sol son acte sexuel d’onanisme
voulu, quémandé et admiré par sa mère qui cependant ne survivra pas à ce dernier spectacle. On
est au-delà du pervers. On a atteint l’intolérable, l’absurde, le profondément maladif, le suicidaire.
Il s’agit là d’une perversion du narcissisme qui fait que le sujet narcissique finit par vouloir
s’aimer à se regarder mourir dans un délire de sexualité, délire incestueux dans ce cas. La mère
en meurt. Le fils finit complètement distordu et biscornu – queue de cochon – essayant de se
revoir dans cet acte sexuel final qui a enveloppé, drapé, habillé la mort de sa mère et il veut une
dernière fois atteindre l’orgasme mais avec seulement sa mère morte et donc sous le seul regard
de lui-même, et de l’employé de la morgue qui arrête le jeu et le fait se reculotter ?
Ce fut une période après 1968 où la sexualité vidée de son obligation de procréation, était
devenue une simple activité de jeu, avec de la drogue en plus, pour complètement déstructurer
cette activité hormonale humaine qui ne saurait en rien être une distraction, un passe-temps, une
babiole, une boutade même. Le vrai problème est de savoir où exactement se situe la limite entre
le sain et le malsain, le jeu et la chute, le pervers et le mortifère. Ce film ne dit rien sur tout cela.
Ce film n’est qu’un signal d’alarme qui n’a cependant pas été entièrement entendu de par le
monde. Mais soyons clairs. Ce sont ceux qui font preuve d’un maximum de pruderie et de pudeur
dans des circonstances normales qui deviennent, ou peuvent devenir, les pires bêtes de cette
déchéance. Mais quand le bête sociale se met à sévir, on quitte le plan de la normalité pour entrer
dans le plan du procès métamorphique à la Kafka d’un onanisme narcissique totalement enfermé
dans le placard du crâne des victimes compatissantes, complaisantes et acquiesçantes de ce jeu
à chat perché, la nuit quand tous les chats sont gris.
Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU

3. ENGLISH VERSION
A little film. The most Spanish of all French films on sexuality in and around THE family. The
visual provocation is limited, altogether, to a few dorsal scenes, one or two very brief frontal views
of this mother's son, and a pair of probably gay naturist scenes. The rest is just gymnastics, from
what we can see, but with more or less concealed allusions to sadomasochism or simple perverse
masochism. The young man who plays this game, Lulu or Loulou, does not die but he could have,
he was so handcuffed, strangled, whipped – so as not to dirty the lady's horse-riding crop – and
the rest is not shown. The mother, precisely in her final game, will give herself to her son in an act
of extreme sadomasochism and she will go directly to the morgue where her son will relive on the
ground his sexual act of onanism wanted, begged for, and admired by his mother who, however,
will not survive this last show. We are beyond perverse. We have reached the intolerable, the
absurd, the profoundly sick, the suicidal.
This is a perversion of narcissism which means that the narcissistic subject ends up wanting to
love himself when watching himself die in a delirium of sexuality, an incestuous delirium in this
case. The mother dies. The son ends up completely distorted and twisted – twisted pigtail to reach
deep corners – trying to see himself again in this final sexual act which enveloped, draped, and
dressed the death of his mother, and he wants to reach orgasm one last time but with only his
mother dead and so under the sole gaze of himself, and of the morgue employee who stops the
game and makes him pull his trousers back up?
It was a period after 1968 when sexuality, emptied of its obligation to procreate, had become a
simple play activity, with drugs added, to completely deconstruct this human hormonal activity
which could in no way be a distraction, a pass. time, a trinket, a joke even. The real problem is
knowing where exactly the line lies between the healthy and the unhealthy, the game and the fall,

4. the perverse and the deadly. This film says nothing about any of that. This film is only a warning
signal which, however, has not been fully heeded throughout the world. But let's be clear. It is
those who demonstrate maximum prudery and modesty in normal circumstances who become or
can become the worst beasts causing this decline. But when the social beast begins to rage, we
leave the plane of normality to enter the plane of the Kafka-style metamorphic trial of narcissistic
onanism totally locked up in the closet of the skull of the compassionate, complacent, and
acquiescent victims of this game of perched cat, at night when all cats are gray.
Dr. Jacques COULARDEAU
Raping boys and men is a game!
Violer les ados et les jeunes hommes
C’est la traque cynégétique !