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Wickedly smart and wickedly playful, Roman Polanski's adaptation of David Ives' Tony-nominated Venus in Fur works on so many levels, it's almost dizzying.
The haunted-house lighting is a perfect match for the claustrophobic intimacy of this two-hander - and camouflage, perhaps, for the fact that "Venus in Fur" remains more play than film.
Whether you like it or not, Roman Polanski is a great artist, and even the minor films of his fugitive decades glimmer with the claustrophobia and sardonic bleakness of his greatest work.
Perhaps he is more drawn to Mr. Ives's quasi-feminist rationalization of sexual fetish than Sacher-Masoch's explanation of it as mastery over repressed feelings, and somehow sees parallels between the play and his own sexual felony.