I am giving this pretentious piece of garbage a 1 simply because i don't believe there is a worse movie in the world.I hate this movie, i hate the acting, dialog, setting, writing and directing. I hope everyone that was involved in this movie burns and rots in the darkest circle of hell.Damn this disgusting waste of time.I pray every day that this movie is just a figment of my imagination. i pray that i dreamt the movie, and that i will never have to see it at my local video store again.BURN IN HELL

(Note: Over 500 of my movie reviews are now available in my book "Cut to the Chaise Lounge or I Can't Believe I Swallowed the Remote!" Get it at Amazon.)There's a kind of French farce/Marquis de Sade/Japanese porn feel to this self-indulgent romp from Brit auteur Peter Greenaway. It's kind of a "God, I'm bored and I've got so much money and what the heck let's turn the Geneva mansion into a bordello, a different woman in every room and Dad and I will have lots of fun and bond" thing. "I mean mom's gone now, Dad, and you never really got out and now it's time to live." So father and son go naked a lot with lots of babes who are also naked a lot.Matthew Delamere (Storey) is the son and John Standing (Philip) is the father. It's a bit creepy seeing them sharing the same bed naked. In fact it's a bit creepy seeing John Standing naked, period. But that's part of the Greenaway intent. Let's shock the bourgeoisie. It's such fun to do stuff that will make them squirm.They hissed at Cannes when this was shown (I understand; I wasn't there). It was first released in the Czech Republic, which says something, but I'm not sure what. It was banned in Malaysia--but that's pretty standard. The women are bizarre but, to be honest, intriguing. The story isn't much of a story. The rationale for suddenly taking on the life of the libertine is slight (Philip's wife dies) and a bit late in the coming. (And no pun intended.)The story starts in Tokyo with Storey helping Simato, a pachinko addict played by Annie Shizuka Inoh, avoid financial trouble in exchange for sexual favors. But never mind. As I said, the story doesn't matter. What matters is the outrageousness of the events (mostly sexual) and the beautiful sets. That's it. Most interesting thing in the film is Polly Walker who has both sex appeal and charisma. Most grotesque is that pig with its pinkish white skin so very human looking--and of course that was a sight joke and a comment upon humanity. But again, never mind.By the way, the 8 1/2 in the title is because Fellini's famous film somehow inspired Storey and Philip toward their debauchery.

OK, before you read any further, I should point out that I am not a fan of Greenaway or of the type of movie he represents, so if you're looking for yet another fawning contemplation of the 'genius' that is Peter Greenaway, then hit the back button now.There is something almost insultingly tiresome about Peter Greenaway's compulsion to shock in order to attract attention; he's been doing it for more than twenty years now, and watching his films – new and old – is a little like having one's forehead constantly prodded by the thumb of some warped history teacher who is determined to drill his perverse version of world events into your brain come what may. Greenaway feels he's got something to say, and he's keen to share it, but God forbid he should stray from the baffling, obscure manner of communicating that message that has become his trademark. I'm always suspicious of these artistic types who eschew traditional narrative techniques in favour of pretty – but asinine – images designed to confuse most viewers, and to obscure any message so that a myriad of interpretations can be derived from them. It's one of the biggest con tricks going: Peter Greenaway is one of its premier practitioners, and pseudo-intellectuals, those forlorn figures with nothing to say unless a critic or an artist has spoon-fed them their lines, are his fall-guys.The story revolves around wealthy, recently-bereaved Philip Emmenthal (John Standing) and his son Storey (an incredibly irritating Matthew Delamere), a very odd couple who sleep with each other to cope with their bereavement (my, how clever – and shocking). Storey takes his father back to Japan with him, where he manages a string of Pachinco palaces, and events that awaken Philip's latent sexual fantasies result in the two men installing eight-and-a-half women (one has had her legs amputated) in their Swiss mansion.The first problem to overcome when watching this flick is that the two main characters are such a pair of obnoxious prats. They conduct a series of bizarre conversations in which no two men – let alone father and son – would engage in real life, and which would mark them out as severely disturbed – but of course this is Greenaway-land, so nobody bats an eye. Not even when, while queueing to see Fellini's 8 ½ - to which this is a cockeyed homage - father and son discuss their incestuous tryst; or when, once in the cinema, the father embarks on a lengthy discourse about how he admired his own father's penis (Eiffel tower, Empire state, etc). The women are equally bizarre: a naked horseback rider who has a relationship with a pig, a debt-ridden, shaven-headed former nun, a Pachinco-addicted Japanese girl, a remote geisha-type, a perpetually pregnant mercenary, etc. They're all suitably weird, but also curiously boring – even though most of them are in some state of nudity much of the time. Only Polly Walker's Palmira is a believable – and curiously sympathetic, given her background – character, and earns the best line in the movie. "Men love women, women love children, and children love hamsters. A one-way slide. There is little going back the other way," she declares while lying naked on a sun-lounger. Each woman represents some aspect of men's fantasies/fetishes and, as such, their growing power over the two men is quite subtly developed, yet there is no sense of come-uppance for father and son here, suggesting the 'misogynist' label often attached to Greenaway isn't totally undeserved. The women are all too aware of their power, and know just when to use it; by the end of the film they have all taken something from the men while leaving them emotionally and morally unchanged. There is no character arc here – which doesn't necessarily have to be a bad thing – but the absence of such leaves this story feeling woefully flat. In its favour, the film does have some witty interplay between the diverse set of characters at times, but these nuggets are too far apart, stranded between an endless parade of dull, self-indulgent, and pretentious posturing. Although not as visually ravishing as much of Greenaway's work, he does make effective use of extreme close-ups that give the eye something to dwell on long after the brain has seized up. 8 ½ Women has been described as one of Greenaway's more accessible films, and it's true, it is – which should be a strong enough incentive for most people to steer clear of any of his other works. It is, by Greenaway's standards, a comedy, but not the kind that contains laughs – or even wry smiles. No, it's that unpleasant, superior, mocking kind – the kind those pseudo-intellectuals love to love, once it's been explained to them.

I've heard and read much criticism about Greenaway's homage to Fellini, "8 1/2 Women", and have found it both predictable and amusing. Every Greenaway film evokes raw, often disturbing emotions in the viewer-- this is nothing new, yet is treated like a revelation with every new release. And some fans and critics of Greenaway seem to be keeping a running score of his visual/emotional offenses, even tending to get irate when he fails to shock or disturb on the level of his other films. But again, this is nothing new.So I'm humored at the reaction to "8 1/2 Women", for it is as visually stunning/arousing/disturbing as many of its predecessors while it is actually quite tame by Greenaway's standards (for one, the cannibalism/mutilation theme is missing). Yet we have those who are disappointed at the lack of shock or those who are too easily shocked, and Greenaway has long proven that you can't make everyone happy in filmmaking and, honestly, he really doesn't care what you think. You only have to watch.He is really very similar to Fellini in this way as he is in so many others. I'm no great fan of Fellini's, not as much as I am of his successors anyway, but the parallels are apparent. Fellini worked in absurdities the way Greenaway works in the dire or some artists work in oils. He made the most ridiculous scenarios seem beautiful, artful... even sexy. He imprinted upon film as art and future filmmakers that strange and disjointed often equals desirable, and Greenaway clearly took this to heart. But like Fellini, Greenaway films come with an automatic caveat: You will see things that we are taught to abhor and despise in our society, you will have to think about things from which humans naturally shrink away and you will bear witness to the possibility that great beauty can be found in the mire if you can manage to look long enough. Greenaway's "awfulness" and attempt to disgust you is his medium and his brilliance (and his great joke on you), and if this doesn't sit well with you then you shouldn't watch Greenaway. It's as simple as that.So, that being said - "8 1/2 Women". Not Greenaway's best, but certainly not his worst. Again we get to share in his great love of the human form in all its beauty and imperfection-- both of body and of character. But this is his most lighthearted attempt and is thoroughly enjoyable for that alone. The relationship between the widower Philip Emmenthal and his earthshakingly prattish son Storey is genuinely touching, as are their relationships with the various women they bring into their lives to replace their lost wife/lover/mother. Equally moving is the fact that these women become much more than mere objects or possessions in their house, but rather individual character studies on the strength of femininity and the power that women have over men. While Fellini's "8 1/2" may have been semi-autobiographical, here Greenaway seems to have tapped into the fantasies and realities of the relationships between men and women everywhere, focusing on the fact that neither are as simple as they seem. And that while mere sex will inevitably falter in the face of deeper love, such meaningful relationships are elusive and fleeting. He doesn't tap very far through, which is this film's only failing; the relationships and characters, some of whom are downright silly, are often taken at surface value and the themes, especially regarding sexual dynamics, are nothing new to cinema.Nevertheless, "8 1/2 Women" is a lovely, surprisingly sincere and often humorous account of men, women, family, self-identity and the rewards of living out your fantasies along with their tempering costs. Highly recommended for anyone who has been scared away by Greenaway's other films or for anyone else who truly enjoys the beauty found in strong women and faltering men.