What, I wonder, is the superlative of pretentious. Yes, I know that it's 'most pretentious,' but that doesn't seem dramatic enough to describe this very long, long journey into total self-congratulatory eroticism. The film is based on portions of Anais Nin's diaries -- she wrote something like 9,000 pages, and you don't need to read more than a tenth of those to know that you are in the hands of one of the most self absorbed women who ever walked the planet. For one who is supposed to have been all about Art, she really seems to have been all about Anais. Nothing else much mattered. And this film, which is supposed to focus on her relationship with Henry and June Miller, really is all about her. The more libidinous she becomes the more 'innocent' she claims to be.<br /><br />Anyway, about the movie: Maria de Medeiros has an amazing, triangular face with huge eyes. Her unique looks and tiny perfect body make us pay attention. I found Fred Ward's Henry Miller a bit too thick to be convincing. Somehow, from what I've read of Miller, I think he would have been a lot more intuitive and sensitive to the female psyche (we know he knew a lot about the female physique). Uma Thurman was wonderful as June. Really a stellar, moving performance. I wanted to see more of June because I was left not quite understanding how she worked. I guess Henry and Anais didn't either.