Sorry, this movie sucks

a film so unique, intoxicating and bizarre that it not only demands another viewing, but is also forgivable as a satirical comedy where the jokes eventually take the back seat.

It's an amazing and heartbreaking story.

There's a more than satisfactory amount of boom-boom in the movie's trim running time.

Dedalus is in a personal maze and he can't get out of it. He questions himself, fails, questions more and still fails.This film is boring, there are no other adjective for it. Other reviews say it is boring and it does not create any emotion apart from boredom, are we then all mad ?You can try watching it, if you are a PhD student and want to finish your doctorate, if you have issues with your girlfriend, you might get an answer or you might not.The title says almost everything and from it, it would give you a hint at why it should be avoided at all cost.This is a continuous non eventful movie, nothing happens because in the character's life, nothing happens, it is static. Inertia should be Dedalus middle name. This is not a waltz of emotions, it is a pure boring nightmare.

In my comments on "J'embrasse Pas", a film I much admire, I mentioned the decline of the French cinema in recent years. As an example to substantiate this, look no further than "Ma Vie Sexuelle", a work of gargantuan proportions (3 hours running time) that for me fails to transcend the commonplace it seems to be celebrating and becomes trapped in inertia. On the surface much of it is not unlike a Rohmer film. There is a group of young people living in Paris. Paul, the central character is a University tutor. There are at least three young woman in his life and he moves from one to another indecisively. There are endless scenes in cafes, in one anothers' apartments and at parties; the very stuff of Rohmer. The Master, however, would have made it last half the time with several times the degree of perception. "Ma Vie Sexuelle", on the other hand, has a curious lack of purpose, often losing its sense of directional balance. What to make of the two flashbacks to Paul's childhood that seem to add nothing to our knowledge of his character? And then there is the strange figure of Rabier, a senior lecturer whose return to the University seems to fill Paul with unease over his inadequacy to cope with professional life. Presumably he is intended to play a pivotal role like one of Iris Murdoch's "enchanters". But how can he when he is depicted as a quirky idiot who goes everywhere with a pet monkey? The sudden change of mood to black comedy when the monkey becomes trapped behind a radiator is curiously at variance with the rest of the film. There is a background score that, with its suggestion of unease, would fit better in a Chabrol thriller than these mundane goings-on. To add to all the muddled pretentiousness there is a voice-over narrative so beloved by earlier French masters such as Resnais and Truffaut but here there is nothing perceptive in what is said. It simply supplies the connections that the Taiwanese masters, Hou Xiaoxian and Edward Yang, would have demanded far more subtly we make for ourselves. The film is thus a mishmash of influences completely lacking a sense of individuality. Let those in search of titillation from a film so entitled beware. "La Vie Sexuelle" is almost puritanically staid. It belongs to a much older Wave than the New.

James Joyce may have been the greatest writer of the 20th century, but his altar-ego, Stephen Dedalus, is one of literature's great bores, a self-regarding intellectual who gets so lost in a swamp of second-hand ideas he does not know how to live life, and where one line will do, will speak reams of dense, circular, allusive cant.Ditto his namesake Paul in this film, with whom we have the privilege of spending three hours, as he talks, makes a mess of his life, talks, makes a mess of his career, talks, makes a mess of his relationships, and talks. 173 minutes. Like Stephen, his problems with writing are linked to his problems with sex. This is a key film of the Young French Cinema, which favours the flat filming of dozens of bright charmless young things drinking coffee and talking about Wittgenstein. Great.

A fascinating look at a group of post-grad friends as they drink, fight and fall in love. Very philosophical men, very beautiful women (or is it vice versa?) ponder what it means to be in a relationship and approaching 30.