Louis Malle's beleaguered tale of sexual obsession is a strange but satisfying hybrid of high-gloss trash and Greek tragedy.

It's to Malle and his gifted company's credit that this posh bodice-ripper often comes close to achieving its tragic ambitions. But the stylish Damage is a lot easier to enjoy if one doesn't feel compelled to take it seriously.

Stephen and Anna are wrong to do what they do in Damage, but they cannot help themselves. We know they are careening toward disaster. We cannot look away.

The iconic final image...is sheer perfection. It’s a symbol of everything that he [Stephen] had and lost; an empty bit of nostalgia epitomizing the three lives he ruined.