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At one point, Barth offhandedly comparedArizonato Bernardo BertoluccisThe Conformist.
There happened to be a VHS copy ofThe Conformistlying around; my parents had recently watched it.
With Mom and Dad still at work, I immediately put the tape in the VCR.
Two hours later, I had no idea what Id just seen.
So, I immediately rewound and watched it again.
By the end of the week, I think Id watchedThe Conformistfive times.
By the end of the month, maybe ten.
It was beautiful not just in the sense that it was gorgeous, though it certainly was gorgeous.
The film had an elusive, rich dream logic.
It was often one step, two steps ahead of you, but it was hypnotic.
The film was a comeback vehicle of sorts.
(They broke all my bones, was how he would later describe the experience to me.)
A brave and foolhardy video distributor put outPartner, Bertoluccis much-reviled extended Godard homage.
The long-gone Biograph theater in D.C. a porn house by day, an art house by night!
(In its cut version, so it wasonlyfour hours and 20 minutes long.)
Bertoluccis work, it turned out, made for a perfect gateway drug into the broader world of cinephilia.
He himselfwas a film buff in both sentiment and deed.
Forgive all the name-checking.
He talked openly about his inspirations.
Reading up on his work, I discovered countless new movies and directors.
His subsequent pictures, Id argue, are among his most sincere.
In that sense, losing him feels like Ive lost a parent.
And heroes, like parents, are human, as we discover the longer we live.
And Bertoluccis legacy has now become a controversial one, which I need to address here.
It is possible to acknowledge and honor Schneiders trauma while still knowing that.
And that is now part of his legacy, too.
I do wonder if Bertolucci himself knew hed gone too far withLast Tango.
Its almost as if he was trying to shake it.
Schneider, for her part never could; it haunted her for the rest of her career.
And now, it haunts Bertolucci, too, even in death.
