Henry & June

Henry & June is a difficult, uncompromising work whose best qualities are not likely to be appreciated by all filmgoers. But it is, quite simply, the most overwhelming film about ultimate freedom to reach us in years. [19 Oct 1990, p.12]

A beautiful movie, probably more erotic than any mainstream film ever made and yet never remotely pornographic, at other times hilariously funny. [05 Oct 1990, p.3F]

Henry & June, a portrait of two pioneers in prose, accomplishes its own kind of pioneering on screen and not merely because it's unapologetically erotic: it effortlessly pairs that oddest of all couples, sexual desire and cerebral activity. It is, as a friend commented in a phrase Nin and Miller would have loved, "an erection for the mind." [05 Oct 1990]

Henry & June is a sumptuous film, more deeply shaded and richly appointed than Kaufman's The Unbearable Lightness of Being. While it fails to capture the lovers' emotional evolution, it does project their individual concerns. [05 Oct 1990, p.6]

One thing it's not, despite the several lesbian love scenes that earned the film its NC-17, nee X, is "steamy." Nor is it provocative or even, Kaufman's best intentions notwithstanding, particularly erotic. It's a handsome bore. [05 Oct 1990, p.G5]

In its depiction of Depression Paris and sexual candor, Henry & June succeeds. The central performances of Fred Ward, as the cynical, life-loving Miller, and Maria de Medeiros, as the beautiful, insatiable Anais, splendidly fulfill the director’s vision. Pic is less successful in gaining audience sympathy for these hedonists. Also, the character of June (Uma Thurman) is ill-defined.

The characters' sexual abandon is so complete that it robs the story of any shape.