[rating=8.00]
Boundaries isn’t a word in filmmaker Gaspar Noe’s lexicon, not even in the sense of being boundary breaking. To be boundary breaking is to acknowledge that there’s a boundary that exists in the first place and if there’s a connective tissue that runs through his oeuvre it’s an almost willful ignorance of the very concept.
This has of course led to some powerful moments of raw cinema. Irreversible is a film I can hardly think about without feeling a visceral, emotionally spurred sickness thanks to its brutal depiction of a sexual assault. Enter the Void, similarly, with its first-person perspective, is often raw and unflinching in its examinations of life and death through the lens of psychedelic cinema.
Climax, his latest film, never quite reaches the emotionally disturbing heights of Noe’s previous works, but that’s not for want of trying. It is an expression of raw cinematic form that build steadily in visceral terror towards nowhere in particular. As art so often does, it exists simply for its own sake, never particularly caring whether or not you are along for the ride.
Such has always been the case for Noe, though he has perhaps never been so blunt about it before. Climax exists largely without plot and is, instead, a work of pure expression and terror. Along the way we’re taken inside the depths of the auteur’s artistry—which is in top form—in a wild and crazy descent into Hell itself.
In this case, it’s Hell in the Sartrean sense. Climax follows a night where a French dance troupe has secluded themselves in an abandoned school for one blow out party. Unbeknownst to them, someone has laced the sangria with a heavy dose of LSD. As the night goes on, the more primal natures of the dancers is unleashed and they are subject to a Hell of their own designs. Where they’re at seems largely dependant on other people.
What’s fascinating is Noe’s idea that Hell and Heaven need not necessarily be all that different. While there’s no denying the terror of his concept here, the dancers are quickly divided into groups that are enjoying their unintentional madness and those who aren’t. The wild juxtaposition of these competing subjective realities is the source of some brutal tension for them and the audience. What’s more terrifying than watching someone enjoy themselves as you descend deeper into madness?
Though the film is often cruel in a way that Noe has perfected (one of the dancers has brought their child to the party, and I’ll leave the rest up to you) it displays a sheer mastery of craft that’s eerily magnetic. As repulsed as we might be some of the scenarios introduced, it’s hard to look away, especially as the night descends further into the psychedelic abyss.
Maybe not for most audiences—many will no doubt be repulsed by the building tension and its horrific releases—but for some Climax is a work of light genius from a filmmaker who never shies from terrifying creativity. From the film’s stunning opening dance number to the hellish choreography that follows, Climax is a superbly engrossing work of art that exists to erase your own boundaries and push you to recognize the beast within. It’s not for everyone, but you probably knew that already. If Noe and his brand of cinema already appeals to you then buckle up for weird and wonderful ride.
Climax is now playing in select theaters.
