Romanticism (or love/affection if I'm being blunt) comes in many shapes. We have seen the simplest form of love in Frank Capra's films (It's A Wonderful Life, It Happened One Night). We have seen a far more complex one in Kim Ki-Duk's films (3-Iron, Bad Boy). But what people want out of their affairs or relationships regardless of their sexes is a question not addressed and explored frequently. In my opinion, the closest portrayal of it was done by one of the cinema giants, Luis Buñuel.

Buñuel didn't go for the uncommon perversions, however, his films do portray some of the deviations we see regularly around us through his characters—a masochist woman, a young male with a much older female, a young female with a much older male, a husband who constantly doubt his wife and would go to extreme lengths to ensure her marital imprisonment, etc. These deviations may seem normal to many, as they are to me but deviations nonetheless. We, humans, are nowhere near being perfect.
In this film, "The Obscure Object of Desire"—an elderly french widower by the name Matthew falls in love with Conchita, only 18, barely in her legal womanhood. We come to know of their relationship through Matthews's narration. A room full of passengers on a departing train is his audience.

Conchita is a tough, strong-willed girl. Despite the tenderness of her age, she can look after herself. But when someone three times her age approaches her with sweet words of love and promises of riches, Conchita doesn't laugh at his face and walk away. Can't she see how wretched her life might become? Where's her pragmatism otherwise clearly visible in her manner?

On their first night together, Matthew finds that Conchita wore a tightly laced corset. He tries his best to untie it and fails. So no sexual intercourse is on the table. A sort of chastity corset you can say. Conchita raises the question—
You have me. I love you as well. I'm living with you under the same roof, on the same bed. We eat together, walk together. Isn't that enough? Why do you want sex?

Source

source

Fair enough. Her logic is sound. What do we mean when we love someone? Can we love them when sexual abstinence is part of the deal? Is it enough to form and maintain a relationship without the physical aspect of it? And what about the reverse situation where you have only sex and no affection whatsoever? Can that survive? What is our object of desire when we want someone for ourselves?

I don't really know the answer to these questions. Common sense urges me to assert that we need both physical and emotional love to work a relationship, but that doesn't always work either, does it? What Matthew does in the film is for a viewer to see. I'm not going to spoil your fun.

After that night, Conchita and Matthew then embark on an on-off relationship. She's an enigma. Always taunting. Her mood changes drastically from one moment to another. To represent this characteristic of her, Buñuel had cast two actresses to act in the role of Conchita. One of them indulge Matthew and his advances and the other one drives him away. You might say, one adept actress could play both versions of Conchita and you wouldn't be wrong. But I think this was actually a brilliant approach, as her mood swings are so alien to one another—the change of entire visage worked the best.

Don't get me wrong though. I don't consider women as unbreakable codes, super complex beings. Misunderstood, perhaps. Yes, not even after seeing this fine picture. But if you ever come across a person like Conchita, I'd suggest you run the other way.

Fernando Rey was terrific as Matthew. He was one of the mascots of European films after all. I've seen this film many times and loved it in each viewing a bit more.

Trailer