Frankly, In the Morning of La Petite Mort is not as provocative nor as erotic as implied by the title. Sure, there are sex scenes, with plenty of nude shots. But these scenes come about silently, nearly without dialogue, with a lack of passion in between most of the lovers, a lack of connectedness. It’s no less visceral, though, as it mirrors the same disconnection the characters feel, being at the margins of Taipei. While it’s sometimes muddled with certain subplots, the haunting, strikingly-shot images stirs some compassion, especially with the cast’s performances, but the indirect approach makes the film feel unclear and sometimes unrealistic.

The whole film is mostly quiet, and it’s mostly communicated through images, not dialogue. It’s beautifully shot and well framed, but it would have been interesting to see the three main leads try to connect with each other through words, especially since they all have different nationalities and languages.