There's very little comedy in L'Ennui, a relentless and uncompromising look at sexual obsession, but its one funny moment pretty well defines the film's central relationship. At around the halfway point, Charles Berling, a middle-aged college professor, waits anxiously by the phone for his impassive lover, 17-year-old Sophie Guillemin, to call. When she does, he's so infuriated by their conversation, he hurls the phone against the wall until it shatters into pieces. Then, in a matter of seconds, he sprints to a closet, grabs another phone, and plugs in the jack, and the cycle begins again. Their ill-fated affair fits into a tradition of French films, including Robert Bresson's A Gentle Woman and Claude Goretta's The Lacemaker, that deal with intellectual men who confront their helpless attraction to simple—or, in this case, blank—women by objectifying them. L'Ennui is far more explicit than the others, but Berling and Guillemin's torrid sexual encounters are crucial to the film's dynamic, especially once his interest in possessing her goes beyond carnal. Working from a novel by Alberto Moravia (Contempt, The Conformist), director Cédric Kahn tells the story in something close to first-person, never breaking from his hero's self-destructive and often loathsome behavior. At a solid two hours, some may find the action repetitive; a typical scene consists of Berling barraging Guillemin with questions and accusations while she responds with placid indifference. But for those patient enough to ride it out, L'Ennui is that rare film, like Last Tango In Paris, that's both primal and psychologically acute, making one man's sexual desperation agonizingly palpable.