My review was written in June 1985 after watching the movie on VCL-Media Home Entertainment video cassette.
"Monique" is an extremely odd melodrama, filmed in New York City in 1979 by a mainly French crew under the title "Flashing Lights", subsequently renamed "New York After Dark" and unreleased theatrically. Pic is now available on home video as "Monique", not to be confused with the 1970 British sex pic of that name.
Despite opening and end titles insisting this is a true story reported in a 1974 French psychology journal, pic unfolds as an unconvincing exploitation tale with absurd plot hooks. Monique (Florence Giorgetti) is a 35-year-old French art book publisher in Manhattan, who suddenly marries a young artist Richard Lewis (John Ferris), who specializes in oversize drawings of babies. Natch, Monique wants a chlld but can't seem to have one and is visiting a nasty shrink Dr. Mandel (Barry Woloski) to resolve this and other problems. Her biggest hangup, insecurity, stems from recurring nightmares about a childhood incident involving her mom (since deceased).
Film takes a strange twist when it turns out that husband Richard is cheating on Monique with his prior male lover Rboert (Todd Isaacson) and is still a part of Gotham's gay scene, all without informing his wife. Absurd coincidence has the shrink finding out from Monique's dad that the childhood trauma was her witnessing her mom's discovery that daddy was having an affair with another man.
Final reels go way over the top as Monique becomes deranged and hunts for hubby in Manhattan gay bars, leaving a trail of dead bodies. Filmed around the same time as William Friedkin's "Cruising", pic briefly offers an even stranger glimpse of this N. Y. night world, with Monique dancing on the disco floor with dozens of heavy leather guys, prior to her stabbing them.
Case history format is very awkward, with frequent inserts of psychoanalysis sessions featuring a most abrasive, obnoxious shrink. Giorgetti, who earlier made a strong impression as Isabelle Huppert's sympathetic roommate in "The Lacemaker", is empathetic in the tortured title role, but is hampered a bit by the requirement of English-language dialog. Supporting cast is weak and under-directed by French helmer Jacques Scandelari. A disco music score by Jacques Morali has become dated.
