Sangria Party
Climax
Film. The fifth film by Gaspar Noé, the director of discomfort (Irréversible, Enter The Void), always wants to bring French cinema the breath it lacks. But would he run out of steam?
By Franck Lebraly
One could to hail the genius like the majority of the critics who taped your foot during this dance show mixing grace and violence. In Climax there are virtuoso sequences, epileptic choreographies and a skilful mise-en-scene where the camera loses its head and puts it backwards. “It does not come out unscathed”, “A descent into hell”, “a big slap” praises are multiplying …
”The director of Irreversible is predictable.
The movie begins with a crazy sequence-shot, of course, and reveals the heated bodies of young dancers. Too much bad sangria cut with acid will make them be out of their depth and hell is revealed in claustrophobic atmosphere. Noé builds his network around novice actors, we only notice it too … It’s smart to present them under hallucinogens to make up their game, but it’s still wrong. They are supported by real dancers among which KiddySmile (the musician who made the buzz in the course of the Elysée on June 21) and Sofia Boutella (Ex-dancer of Halles became bankable in the United States with Star Trek Beyond or Fahrenheit 451 ) in the general indifference of the medium of the hexagonal cinema. She is the real mirror ball of the movie.
And around her a lot of people gravitate on the dance floor … The soundtrack rocks, a little French Touch or classics like this good old Patrick Hernandez, an unpublished by Daft Punk, techno beating between the cries of the dancers and howling children (the new transgressive element in the universe of Noé).
The end credits start at the beginning, resume in the middle … The director runs a tight ship as he wants and we flow under its overflowing originality. But this scheme is redundant in Noé. What was original at the time of Irreversible becomes (dis) appointed today. Tortured bodies, stroscop light, camera upturned, omnipresent music … These devices already seen and placed there for free would make standard horror films like Annabelle or The Nun for masterpieces of mastery and sobriety. It’s a little disappointing, even predictable. The discomfort is only half and we are shocked not to be.
