(Catherine Lamy, Buzz illustrator)

Sadism, pedophilia, gangbangs, infidelity, incest, murder — children’s valentines don’t seem to mention these things.

Valentine’s Day is romance’s most public moment — a chance to present itself with candy and flowers, with neat narratives of crushes and sweethearts, engagements and marriage. Hidden by that mask of perfume and sugar is love’s excess, love’s overflowing remainder of obsession, mania and depravity.

Theorist Jacques Lacan says that there are two ways to deal with this excess: to deny it and replace it with idealized fictions, or put it to use for one’s own ends. The film industry chose the latter and has commodified all of love’s behaviors into entertainment. The following are some of the finest, most unsettling depictions of the madness of romance.

From Spain, Pedro Almodóvar’s Matador centers on a retired bullfighter and the lawyer who lusts for him. They cross paths as several deaths are linked to the former’s bullfighting academy. For both of them, the best orgasm can only climax with murder.

Almodóvar’s more recent Talk to Her is less erotic violence, more depraved obsession. Here, two men meet in a Madrid clinic — Marco, whose comatose girlfriend was gored by a bull, and Benigno, who is a caregiver to a young female dancer in a coma. Benigno is enraptured by his unconscious patient who he had spied on before her accident. She is a lifeless, angelic body, which he can admire without any consequences.

From Japan, Nagisa Oshima’s In the Realm of the Senses is a retelling of the story of Sada Abe, a Japanese prostitute who, in 1936, strangled her lover to death, cut off his genitals and carried them with her until caught by police.

A bit more cerebral is Hiroshi Teshigahara’s The Face of Another, in which a scientist loses his face in a factory fire. After a transplant surgery, our man has a new moniker and, among other things, uses the persona to try and seduce his estranged wife. A side story tells of a young woman, her disfigured face and of an intimate request to her brother.

Stanley Kubrick has indulged in love’s extremities. His Lolita stars James Mason, Peter Sellers and Sue Lyon. Though heavily censored, it’s still the story of a fastidious, middle-aged Humbert Humbert lusting for the preteen, bubblegum nymphet Dolores Haze.

Kubrick’s final film, Eyes Wide Shut, was the disillusioned sexual odyssey of a Manhattan physician. With Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman, Kubrick brings us into the dark world of a bourgeois hedonist cult, hidden fantasies, prostitutes and orgies.

Hitchcock’s Vertigo tells the story of Scottie, a cop retired by his vertigo but hired to follow Madeleine, who seems possessed by the spirit of a dead woman. He follows her through San Francisco, spiraling into a love for her. His passion becomes so intense that he will try to hold onto this woman, even if it means recreating her through another.

The suburbs are no exception to this neuroticism, as David Lynch’s Blue Velvet shows. Innocent Jeffrey Beaumont is lured into the absurd, underground world of Frank Booth, who deals in kidnapping, drugs and murder. It becomes apparent that Mr. Booth gets off on asphyxiation and enraged sadomasochism.

Finally, getting out of these relationships can be as sad and bizarre as what we do in them. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is a surreal meditation on lovers who have had enough and want to forget the whole thing. The Lacuna Corporation offers on-demand amnesia to wipe out all memories of a relationship, though it doesn’t guarantee regress.

For a rare — and a bit more disturbing — Valentine’s Day indulgence, try one of these hidden flavors of love.