A French movie last night, “Le Secret.” A white married woman in her early 30s takes a big black man as her lover. They have over-the-top sex. Afterward she goes back home and attends to her husband and little boy. Soon the husband notices the hickeys and bruises on her pale skin. He throws a fit. Brazenly she refuses to break it off. At the end, she runs into her husband at a party. She jumps into the swimming pool, fully dressed, as have a few of the other drunken party goers. Her husband leaps in as well. They embrace, kiss. He pulls her down underwater, and for a moment you think he’s decided to kill her and himself. But they emerge, bobbing. She studies his face, trying to determine intent. Fade to black.
OK, one ambiguous ending is as good as another. I saw the film all the way through even though most of the dialog was in French. The woman and her lover spoke English. He made it clear he was in it only for the sex. She made it clear to him that she loved her husband. And yet…the sex was so fucking incredible! I mean, at one point she actually passed out. How’s that for stereotyping a big black man?
I mock the film, but as I say I kept watching.
Fertile ground, isn’t it?
Ah! Let’s pitch a script. A married white woman in France is sick of an oversexed husband and so she hooks up with a big black unpublished writer with a small penis and an equally diminutive sex drive. He’s a sensitive, troubled man who easily weeps. With him she feels comfortably in control. At the end she meets her husband at a party. She does not jump into the swimming pool with the others. Instead she dumps her scotch on her husband’s head. His trouser front bulging with a sudden erection, he studies her face for intent. Fade to black.