Until a half dozen years ago one didn’t necessarily equate the International Monetary Fund or the World Bank with molestation, self-pleasuring and rape – other than financial. With the arrest of French presidential hopeful Dominique Strauss-Kahn, we learned that it’s a merry-go-round of whores, call girls, strippers, hookers, prostitution rings, orgies and sex parties. The first thirty minutes of this Abel Ferrara epic concern themselves precisely with this subject matter, in which an important person going by the name Devereaux, a DSK-alike (Gerard Depardieu, who clarifies he hates all politicians and that one in particular in the opening ‘meta’ EPK) satisfies himself with a plenitude of whores in a succession of scenes. It’s a grotesque sight not merely because Devereaux is enormous and growls when aroused. It’s pure porn. This is prefaced by a meeting prior to his departure for the US where he’s warned that the secret service there are going to be monitoring him because of rumours (they’re not specified). The messenger is immediately offered sexual favours by one of Devereaux’s whores. After hiring two ladies of the night a housekeeper walks in on him naked, he grabs her and jerks off on her. Admittedly I had to pause at this point and come up for air because the stench off this story was overwhelming. He meets his adult daughter and embarrasses her in front of her boyfriend by asking if she enjoys sex with him. The police then grab him before his aeroplane leaves the ground at JFK. He is arrested and humiliated, stripped naked and imprisoned in a police cell when he’s finally allowed his one phonecall and it’s to his powerbroker wife Jacqueline Bisset as Simone, a version of Anne Sinclair. Bisset plays her with elegance, hauteur and the infinite understanding of a woman who is very much aware that she is married to an insatiable, repulsive sex fiend.They have a big scene about an hour in, when he’s permitted to stay in a posh modern duplex under house arrest. She begs him not to touch her – even now she’s susceptible to his touch. His adult daughter by a previous wife calls Simone humorless. He addresses the camera when they discuss his detractors and snarls,’They can go f**k themselves!’ After a therapy session enforced by law/his wife in which he admits he cannot be saved nor does he wish it, we enter real Ferrara territory, exploring the mindset of this unrepentant unChristian sinner: Devereaux is back at the house, looking out at NYC. His reflection is fragmented in such a way as to actually look like the real DSK. His voiceover narration explains his contempt for ‘the herd’. We flash back to his previous sexual encounters including his assault of a young journalist whose mother he knows – he insinuates she wasn’t as much of a problem when it came to sex. His sense of entitlement is supreme, his sense of his power over women unvarnished, his sense of shame utterly non-existent. The charges are dropped, we don’t know why, he presumes it’s his wife’s chequebook. Can anyone comprehend the power of a billionaire? (In reality the immigrant hotel worker was accused of lying because her statement was mis-translated.) And we end with him looking straight to camera after his housemaid says he’s a nice person. If you can get through the vile first half an hour … you get to know why the world is the way it is and why we know next to nothing about the women he abused. But you probably know that already and since this barely got released, you probably don’t need to have this awfulness reinforced. This is a horrible film about a horrible person and the horrible people around him .