After Anatomy of Hell’s tampon tea, any of The Last Mistress’s transgressions will pale in comparison. In contrast to that earlier and polemical diatribe, director Catherine Breillat now takes a straightforward, unabashedly romantic—though still erotic—turn in her adaptation of Jules Barbey d’Aurevilly’s 1851 novel, but don’t expect lace curtains blowing in the wind. The camera focuses mostly on the lovers, very close up, revealing in large relief the film’s gaping hole.

If only Breillat had maintained the visceral effect of her opening scene, set in 1835: two conniving and well-fed aristocrats engorge on nearly raw chicken, with every smack of the lip and mastication pronounced. The gossip of the day: the impending marriage of the handsome but penniless Ryno de Marigny and the rich and virginal Hermangarde (Roxane Mesquida, now blond and more demure here than in her previous collaborations with Breillat.) But what will the young man do about his 10-year-long liaison with his older mistress, the Spanish-born courtesan La Vellini (the ubiquitous Asia Argento)?

Argento is costumed and made up as an homage to Marlene Dietrich, especially in her last collaboration with mentor Josef von Sternberg, the man-eater of The Devil Is a Woman—from the double ringlets framing the forehead, her mantilla (in case you forgot what country she’s from), to the smoke rings blown into a would-be lover’s face. If there is any doubt, La Vellini arrives at a costume party dressed as—no surprise, the devil. But maybe if Breillat had borrowed a little bit of the humor from the pair’s Shanghai Express, The Last Mistress would have been livelier, even with its few provocative moments. Filmed in long takes, the effect is instead languid.

The weight of the film rests heavily on Argento, who shocks society and emotionally breaks down with gusto. She does have many heartfelt moments, and Breillat’s camera is right there as a tear first wells and then trickles down her check. But at other times, Argento strikes an attitude; she doesn’t mock so much as snarls.

But she could be in a different film completely from her costar Fu’ad Aït Aattou, in his film debut. It’s not just the contrast of their characters as he assumes a more passive, feminine role, pursued by an increasingly aggressive La Vellini. The connection wavers between the two. His hips go through the motions, but his mind roams elsewhere.