Huppert Takes Charge in ‘School of Flesh’

France’s Isabelle Huppert has one of the most direct, penetrating gazes of anyone on the screen, and the secret of its strength is that Huppert frequently turns it inward. This is especially true in Benoit Jacquot’s superb “The School of Flesh,” adapted by Jacques Fieschi from the Yukio Mishima novel, that affords Huppert one of the finest roles of her career.

Huppert is perfectly cast as Dominique, a beautiful, chic, self-possessed Paris business executive for a Japanese fashion designer. She leads an elegant, financially secure existence but is honest and courageous enough to have ended her marriage to a childhood friend when she became bored with him. Dominique flourishes among the haute bourgeoisie without apology but is not about to be dictated by conventional mores.

So when she locks gazes with a handsome, half-Arab youth, Quentin (Vincent Martinez), in a pickup bar with both a gay and straight clientele she doesn’t hesitate in being prepared to pay for sex. When it comes to picking a hotel, Quentin coolly says, “You choose. The rest is up to me.”

Dominique, a woman you would describe as being at the full flowering of her beauty rather than as 40ish, attracts Quentin as much as he attracts her, and, not surprisingly, he tries to refuse payment. But Dominique has gotten what she wants and is prepared to take out her checkbook to hold on to it. This is new for Dominique, who clearly has decided her life needs a thrill, but refreshingly she is not naive. She may have plunged into a passionate affair with a young and impoverished man, but her eyes are wide open.

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Dominique’s sense of responsibility and her self-respect allow Huppert to make this woman admirable in her strength and lack of self-pity; no victim, Dominique understands that the affair may cost her more than money.

Quentin’s life is as hectic as Dominique’s is ordered. Although he likes to box, he has no real moneymaking skills outside sex. He is a good son to his single mother, who works the counter of an airport cafeteria, and helps support her and his younger brother. Like lots of young hustlers, he hasn’t entirely come to terms with the reality of being a prostitute yet likes the quick money and rush of power over others it brings him. Still, at one point, he asks, “Aren’t I entitled to a normal life, too?” In comparison to Dominique he is a romantic, and “The School of Flesh” understands the difference between passion and love, even if the distinction becomes blurred for these two characters.

A woman who can risk her heart without losing her head, Dominique is a take-charge woman who learns all she can about her new lover as she goes about discreetly clearing up his debts and moving him into her ultra-contemporary apartment. She has an urge to control, yet the only way she can hope to hold on to Quentin is to grant him as much freedom as he wants--even as he craves emotional security. The truth is, however, that Dominique and Quentin, whose passion for each other is authentic, have little in common outside the boudoir and the questions become how long will their relationship endure and how will it end. The way in which “The School of Flesh” resolves Dominique and Quentin’s relationship is uncommonly mature and satisfying.

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Dominique is more than willing to listen to those more knowledgeable about the demimonde than she, notably Vincent Lindon’s Chris, a transvestite who encourages her involvement with Quentin, and Francois Berleaud’s Soukaz, a distinguished-looking middle-aged attorney. These are gay men who’ve fallen for Quentin too, and in their differing ways let Dominique know what she is getting into.

An especially vibrant presence is Marthe Keller as Madame Thorpe, one of Dominique’s key clients, a rich woman of more style than substance. Bernard Le Coq as a virile, middle-aged businessman attracted to Dominique and Roxane Mesquida as Madame Thorpe’s pretty daughter (who brings to mind a young Romy Schneider) round out a flawless cast, along with Daniele Dubrouz as Dominique’s hard-drinking older friend for whom romance is a thing of the past.

“The School of Flesh,” a title too literal and sensational for the film itself, is a handsome work of authoritative yet understated style, responsive to mood, subtleties and nuance in exploring its especially well-drawn and intelligent lovers. In his film debut, Martinez is as sensitive and expressive as he is sexy, a leading man as romantic as his older brother Olivier Martinez, well-known for “The Horseman on the Roof” and “The Chambermaid.”

But “The School of Flesh” rightly belongs to Huppert, whose illuminating portrayal of Dominique is right up there with her best work, including the title roles in “The Lacemaker” and “Madame Bovary.”

* MPAA rating: R, for language and some strong sexuality. Times guidelines: adult themes and situations.

‘The School of Flesh’

(‘L’Ecole de la Chair’)

Isabelle Huppert: Dominique

Vincent Martinez: Quentin

Vincent Lindon: Chris

Marthe Keller: Madame Thorpe

A Stratosphere Entertainment release of a co-production of Orsans Productions/V.M.P./La Sept Cinema/Bel Age Distribution/Samsa Film. Director Benoit Jacquot. Producer Fabienne Vonier. Executive producer Fabienne Tsai. Screenplay by Jacques Fieschi; based on the novel by Yukio Mishima. Cinematographer Caroline Champetier. Editor Luc Barnier. Production designer Katia Wyszkop. In French, with English subtitles. Running time: 1 hour, 42 minutes.

At selected theaters in Los Angeles and Orange counties.