Real sex makes it to the screen so seldom that it is freeing to see actors allowed to do what lovers do in real life: enjoy each other’s scents, juices, contours. When Michael Pitt lies with his head on Eva Green’s crotch, nuzzling her pubic hair with his nose or twirling it between his fingers, you feel the bracing pleasure of having common experience acknowledged on the screen. Art isn’t always about telling us what we don’t know. It’s also about publicly telling us what, because of politeness or our own timidity, we don’t admit to knowing.
Charles Taylor reviews The Dreamers on Salon.
