House of Sin

Paris in 1899: In L`Apollonide, one of the most distinguished brothels of the Belle Epoque, the signs are shortly before the turn of the millennium on upheaval. On the outside, decadence at its finest is still being lived out, champagne is being consumed en masse and the sight of the beautiful ladies of the house is being enjoyed in the elegant salon. But the beautiful appearance is deceptive. Because the rent for the house is to be increased, the L`Apollonide is about to close. For the girls, most of whom are heavily in debt, this is a catastrophe. The bloody assault of a john on Madeleine (Alice Barnole), the appearance of young Pauline (Iliana Zabeth), opium addiction and fear of syphillis determine the last days in the house of sin - but for the customer, appearances are kept until the last second...

Director Bertrand Bonello, whose acclaimed film The Pornographer was a moving and at the same time honest look at working in the porn industry, wanted to work with two ideas at once in House of Sin: First, he had planned to make a documentary about modern brothels a few years ago, but that ultimately fell through. The other was that he really wanted to make a film that focused on a group of women in a self-contained microcosm. The House of Sin was, of course, ideally suited for this. Except for a small, sun-drenched scene set on an idyllic lake, the action moves only within the rooms of L`Apollonide. In the opulent salon, in the somewhat simpler rooms where the women fulfill the wishes of their clients and in the rather barren rooms where they live. The set design is superb, the camerawork draws the viewer right into the action, and the music creates a steady sense of unease that stands in stark contrast to the gracefully staged bodies of the women.

So there is an inherent fascination with the drama that is captivating even though not much actually happens. There are a lot of long takes that come off as meaningless and far too dissipated on their own. But in the overall context the whole thing works - provided, of course, that you manage to get involved in what's happening. When, for example, spilt-screen sequences show how the girls spend their free time, do the housework, eat together or cuddle up to each other, or when, on the other hand, we see them behaving like dolls for their suitors, bathing in champagne or having their pubic hair cut off as a kind of trophy, it can be very unnerving for the viewer. But those who manage to get involved with the somewhat unwieldy production will perhaps be able to see that the film is by no means as meaningless as it seems at first glance.

Besides the fascinating interplay of sets, camerawork and music, it is above all the actresses who leave a lasting impression. Whether it's Noémie Lvovsky as Madame, the brothel's manager, Alice Barnole as Madeleine, disfigured by a john, or Illiana Zabeth as young Pauline, who must become a woman far too soon, they all ensure that Bonello's project of tracing life in a brothel from the prostitute's point of view is thoroughly successful, despite a few lengths. No question about it, House of Sin is arthouse cinema of a particularly unwieldy kind that will divide opinion. But perhaps that's what makes the film so challenging and interesting. So if you think you might be interested in the story and like to get involved with somewhat more difficult films, you can definitely pay House of Sin a visit

An article by Frankfurt-Tipp