Well, I’ve got to say, I’m really starting to like Walerian Borowczyk. Despite some reservations after my initial viewing of The Beast (though I think pretty much everyone has reservations after viewing The Beast for the first time), I quickly warmed up to his skewed take on sexuality. After all, if the gorgeous, painterly compositions for which he is so renowned hadn’t changed my mind, the giant, sperm-spurting phallus surely would have.

So, with that in mind, I was eager about taking my second foray into Borowczyk territory with Cult Epics’ new DVD of Love Rites (or Cérémonie D’Amour, which, you may have guessed, translates more directly to “Love Ceremony”). In the end, Love Rites sealed the deal for me: I’m now a certified Walerian Borowczyk fan, and I can’t wait to see what more of his sorely under-represented catalogue is given stateside release in the future. But, for now, I’ll turn my mind back to the present and focus on Love Rites.

Adapted from a short story by André Pieyre de Mandiargues, Love Rites concerns French fashion designer Hugo Arnold, who has set out on the Paris metro to meet a woman about a batch of dresses he’s interested in. On the metro, he meets a beautiful young prostitute named Myriam. Soon, Hugo has forgotten all about his dresses and is devoting his day to following Myriam around the city. Eventually, the two end up at the apartment of Myriam’s friend, Sara Sand. Anyone who can’t guess what happens from there hasn’t seen the disk’s cover art.

What’s interesting about Love Rites is that it truly is as simple a movie as it sounds; in fact, I can’t think of the last movie I saw that was this uncomplicated—the film really only consists of two characters, so, over its course, we come to know both of them quite intimately (and yet, strangely, they both manage to retain an air of mystery as well). In this sense, it really is an excellent translation of the short story form to cinema (ranking, in my opinion, on the same level as the opening segment of Todd Solondz’s Storytelling). Love Rites’ simplicity is also interesting as a contrast to other films: instead of trying to cram the content of a novel into a feature, Borowczyk, in choosing shorter source material, allows himself the time to explore it properly, which, in the end, produces a film that is much more satisfying than most adaptations.

Of course, such steady pacing is a trademark of Borowczyk, and his oft-cited “painterly compositions” are definitely on display here: the film is loaded with shots you could almost frame and hang on a wall. Borowczyk also proves himself to be quite experimental in this film, too. Many dialogue scenes, for instance, will focus fetishistically on small objects as the characters continue to talk: a scene in a church, for instance, focuses for an inordinate amount of time on Myriam’s legs, while a dialogue between Hugo and Myriam across the tracks of the metro contains not a single cut-away to Hugo—it focuses solely on Myriam for minutes on end, studying her just as obsessively as Hugo must be. At times, Borowczyk will even abandon dialogue all together and go roaming through the streets of Paris. All of this combines to create a haunting and meditative atmosphere that is just as poetic as many scenes in The Beast. (And, for the raincoat crowd, Love Rites, like The Beast, contains its share of Borowczyk-trademark silk-nightgown-covered-pubis shots, too.)

All in all, Love Rites proves another engaging and interesting gift from Walerian Borowczyk that, like the Beast, refuses to be classified. It treads the lines between horror and romance, art and exploitation, and refuses to give the viewer any easy answers. Even now, I’m still not sure of what the movie is exactly supposed to mean; however, I know I liked it. If you’re interested in the artier side of cult cinema, I’m sure you’ll feel the same.

That said, we come to Cult Epics’ DVD presentation of this fine film, which doesn’t quite live up to the material it’s presenting. The film itself comes very slightly letterboxed at around 1.66:1. The video component of this package is strange, as its letterboxing seems to fluctuate as the film plays, with the image staying the same size but bobbing up and down on the screen (as well as occasionally bleeding into the black mattes as you may have seen in one of these screengrabs). These peculiarities led me to question the framing a little bit, but I eventually decided it must be at least pretty close, as nothing seemed cropped. As for audio, sound is presented in a French mono mix that is pretty good, all things considered: it’s clear with no hissing or popping, etc. The included subtitles are removable and poetically rendered, which is very appropriate, considering the material.

As for extras, the package is a little sparse. A couple of photo galleries are included, one of behind the scenes shots and one of publicity stills. Both are short, but do contain a few choice photos that show off Borowczyk's great sense of composition.

The main "extra" of sorts is the fact that Love Rites has been presented in two versions via the use of a dual-sided disk. One side contains the film's director's cut, and the other a "complete version," which runs ten minutes longer and consists mostly of added scenes of the couple walking through Paris. While it's nice to know that they're thinking of fans, I think Cult Epics might have gone a little overboard in including these two versions. Like with their recent The Beast 3-disk special edition, which also included two versions of that film, the longer version simply consists of slightly-extended exposition scenes that add little to the picture. In my opinion, Borowczyk was right to cut these, and, while Cult Epics' dedication to fans is appreciated, I still think they could've gotten by simply including these extra scenes in a “deleted scenes” supplement rather than a completely separate presentation of the film.

Finally, the package concludes with a set of well-written liner notes that at least illuminate the film (and its place in Borowczyk's career) a little, though still not as much as I would have liked; nevertheless, I guess an element of mystery should remain about the proceedings. On the cover of the booklet containing these liner notes is a nice reproduction of the film’s gorgeous original poster art that nicely finishes off the package.

So, while Love Rites might not be some of Cult Epics’ best work (in fact, its shaky, non-anamorphic transfer makes me wonder if it isn’t later fated for a Beast-style remastered reissue down the line), it’s nevertheless an all right presentation of a very interesting film. If it sounds like something up your alley, it probably is, so pick it up, break out a bottle of wine and a wheel of Brie, and enjoy.