I've loved this movie since I saw it in high school back when my dad had no qualms about purchasing illegal devices, like a satellite dish for all our bleary-eyed needs (a domestic accessory that has since become uncomfortably legit, foryourinformation). Of the 500 channels it picked up, my favourite - besides the depressing porn - was the Independent Film Channel. I watched it and its counterparts every chance I could get: it made me fall in love with film. The Tango Lesson was one of those pictures that was also in love. In love with its subject matter. A narcissistic love. A painful one over control. It was a love affair.
I went through a lot of trouble trying to steal this clip off of Sony's website. I had to first figure out the working code to crack QuickTime Pro 7 so I wouldn't have to pay for the upgrade that enables the option to transfer Internet media files to my desktop. Then I had to upload it into the Video Google database so I could take their flash version and embed it in my blog. Then I had to wait for Google technicians to verify the contents to ensure that it did not contain explicit or obscene material. Then I waited for their response. Then I got it, unfortunately: Nope, can't be done, ya stupid shiksa.
I don't think I actually understood what all that meant. But I guess that's the logical response to any digital conundrum when you're a self-taught stooge like me. ("Wheeee! Sparks! Pretty!") Anyway, the great thing about this movie is that Sally Potter, who takes on the Eastwoodian role of director and actor, shoots the entire thing in black and white. To paraphrase Fred Astaire, he once opined that dance sequences lose their luster in colour. I think that's a fair assessment: form and technique gets lost in its shadow. Baz Luhrmann should be ashamed.