PARIGI, ULTIMO TANGO A - Chissà quanti di voi si sono masturbati visionando (o immagazzinando in memoria e rieditando mentalmente) la scena della burrata in Ultimo tango a Parigi. Beh, la tettona del film è morta oggi, puta caso, proprio nella capitale francese. Stando a quanto lei stessa ha sempre dichiarato, la pellicola in questione le ha rovinato la vita:
I was too young to know better. Marlon later said that he felt manipulated, and he was Marlon Brando, so you can imagine how I felt. People thought I was like the girl in the movie, but that wasn't me, e ancora:
I felt very sad because I was treated like a sex symbol - I wanted to be recognised as an actress and the whole scandal and aftermath of the film turned me a little crazy and I had a breakdown, parlando poi della famigerata scena:
That scene wasn't in the original script. The truth is it was Marlon who came up with the idea, they only told me about it before we had to film the scene and I was so angry. I should have called my agent or had my lawyer come to the set because you can't force someone to do something that isn't in the script, but at the time, I didn't know that. Marlon said to me: 'Maria, don't worry, it's just a movie,' but during the scene, even though what Marlon was doing wasn't real, I was crying real tears. I felt humiliated and to be honest, I felt a little raped, both by Marlon and by Bertolucci. After the scene, Marlon didn't console me or apologise. Thankfully, there was just one take, I've not really forgiven Bertolucci for the way he treated me and although we met in Tokyo 17 years ago, I ignored him. Plus, he and Marlon made a fortune from the movie and I made about £2,500. And Bertolucci was a Communist, too! Per non parlare dei traumi psicologici che subì per l'esser diventata di colpo un sex-symbol:
To be suddenly famous all over the world was frightening. I didn't have bodyguards like they do today. People thought I was just like my character and I would make up stories for the press, but that wasn't me. The whole circus made me go mad. I got into drugs - pot and then cocaine, LSD and heroin - it was like an escape from reality. It was the Seventies and at that time, it was all going on. I didn't enjoy being famous at all and drugs were my escape. I took pills to try and commit suicide but I survived because God decided it wasn't the time for me to go. I suppose it was like a suicide when I overdosed two or three times on drugs, but each time I woke up when the ambulance arrived. Insomma tutto questo stress solo per fare arrapare voi, pubblico de mmerda. Che cosa ci insegna questa storia? Che nella gioia (ammicco, ammicco) di molti si nasconde il dolore di pochi? Non lo so, fatto sta che da oggi in poi, se vi masturbate vedendo quel film, vuol dire che siete dei necrofili.
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