‘Maria, l’histoire vraie’ is a poignant biographical drama that delves into the harrowing experiences of actress Maria Schneider, providing an unflinching look at one of the darkest episodes in film history – the making of Bernardo Bertolucci’s 1972 film ‘Last Tango in Paris’.
Set against the backdrop of Paris in the early 1970s, the story follows 19-year-old Maria Schneider (brilliantly portrayed by newcomer Kacey Mottet Klein), a young aspiring actress with dreams of making it big in the industry. Her selection to star opposite legendary actor Marlon Brando in Bertolucci’s directorial marks what she believes to be a career-defining moment, unaware that she is about to become entangled in a meticulously crafted artistic violence.
At the heart of the narrative lies the infamously controversial ‘butter rape scene’: Without Maria’s full understanding, Bertolucci and Brando decide on-the-spot to modify the script, requiring Brando to simulate sexual assault using butter as a prop. The raw fear, struggle, and tears etched across Maria’s face are captured mercilessly on camera, only to be immortalized in the final cut. The film starkly illustrates how power dynamics can transform a young female actor’s artistic dedication into naked victimhood under the control of two cinematic titans.
‘Maria, l’histoire vraie’ does more than recount the on-set abuses; it also traces their aftermath. Maria faces public humiliation and is branded promiscuous, leading her career into a swift decline. Turning to drugs as a means of coping, she spirals further into self-destruction. Intercut throughout the film are interviews from her later years, showcasing a woman fighting for her life against systemic industry oppression.
Director Justine Triet employs a narrative interweaving fact and fiction, juxtaposing scenes from the making of ‘Last Tango in Paris’ with Maria’s inner collapse, effectively demystifying the so-called masterpiece of cinema history. While Brando and Bertolucci laugh and joke on set, Maria’s trembling hands in the makeup room serve as the most glaring indictment.
As Richard Brody aptly notes, this film’s value lies in its very existence – compelling audiences to confront the legacy of gendered violence within the art of filmmaking. When the real Maria’s voiceover at the end reads, ‘That wasn’t acting, that was my soul being killed,’ the piece delivers a profound critique of the film industry’s darkest practices.