The impossible happened. Patrick Süskind’s “unfilmable” novel, Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, was adapted for the big screen (2006). This was no easy feat because scent, the book's theme, is difficult to portray cinematically. Some critics have pointed to the film's political undertones, even interpreting it as an allegory of the Third Reich. The producer, Bernd Eichinger, is no stranger to this subject, having gained international acclaim for The Downfall, a Hitler biopic. Apparently, Eichinger had been bugging Süskind to let him at Perfumesince its publication in 1985. His perseverance paid off.
The film does an impressive job with a difficult concept. Tom Tykwer (Run, Lola Run), no stranger to frenetic subject matter, had a tricky job with this tale of a homicidal perfume maker. The result is a charmingly bizarre hybrid that plays like the love child of Chocolat and Silence of the Lambs.
In this nightmarish fairytale, Jean-Baptiste Grenouille (Ben Whishaw) is born, despite his mother’s efforts to the contrary, in a filthy fish market. The scene of his birth is perfectly executed and particularly striking; the pressure mounts as the baby’s heart struggles to pump amidst the many pounding elements of the market, climaxing in Grenouille's only real achievement— his own life.
Years later, on a rare outing, he comes upon his first victim (Karoline Herfurth). The camera masterfully highlights the pieces of her that obsess him; she is all bosom, shocking red hair, and plums. The search to preserve this experience through scent starts as a troubling fixation and leads to the composition of his master scent, the essences of 25 virgins, finishing with the lovely Laura (Rachel Hurd-Wood).
Perfume is an ode to the nose; it opens with a dark shot of Grenouille’s face, with only his sniffer eerily lit. The film is slow in many places, but the result is a disturbing examination of the horrors and pleasures of the senses.
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