Gaspar Noé’s latest entry into his divisive filmography is a drug-filled hazy dance party filled with absolute dread. Opening with a spectacular dance number, Climax yearns to take you on a journey filled with blood curling screams, brilliantly colorful lighting, and sexy, young dancers.
And it does, for the most part. As the dancers’ dorm slowly morphs into Hell after a mysterious someone spikes the sangria with LSD, their spiral into murderous madness is hypnotic and sensual. With dizzyingly long takes, Noé manages to make the viewing experience of his film actually feels like a crazy drunken night. When Selva (Sofia Boutella) stumbles down the long hallways, the camera slowly tilts the other way, evoking the hazy, woozy sensation of losing your mind on a substance. It’s incredible when cinema can stimulate a distinct feeling like the act of being drunk or on drugs, and Noé flourishes with Climax.
However, his flourish can sometimes be too much. In the final act, some of Noé’s more pretentious dispositions start slipping in, like title cards that read “Death is an experience” backwards. It’s tamer that his last film, Love 3D, where two characters were literally named after him, but its artsy ego lingers, clawing at the threads and unraveling all the enchanting work he laid out for the first hour.
Luckily, this doesn’t harm the movie itself. Climax is intended to stick with you, like a hangover after a wild night. It will haunt you all day, and as you tap your feet to that Daft Punk song playing at the coffee shop, you might also imagine Boutella swirling round and round a dingy dance floor sticky with sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids.
Climax
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This article appears in September 28 • 2018.