Greetings again from the darkness. A wounded, bleeding, hysterical woman is seen crawling through the snow. She’s not dressed appropriately for the weather, and it’s apparent she’s suffered some type of trauma. This opening shot is from a bird’s eye view, and it’s the way provocative filmmaker Gaspar Noe (LOVE, ENTER THE VOID) opens his latest film. This vivid visual sticks with us as we flashback to the progression of events that led to this woman’s unfortunate circumstance … her situation being the conclusion to what we are about to watch.
The initial dance sequence is shown in full and it is quite stunning in its energy and physicality and athleticism. As best I could tell, it was a single long take with dancers writhing and music thumping, both in frenetic mode. Much of each dancer’s personality is depicted in their movements, and the video interviews we see as part of their audition reveal a culturally diverse group of young adults unsure of where this is headed. We are watching a troupe of mid-1990’s French dancers rehearsing in a large, otherwise empty facility on a snowy night, and we too are unprepared for what’s about to unfold.
After that initial performance, the dancers begin mingling as the camera takes us inside the various conversations. Lust, jealousy, and insecurities fill the air as the choreographed energy we first watched in awe slowly disintegrates into a bizarre type of hand-to-hand combat … some psychological, some more physical/violent in nature. The dancers are slipping from sanity, unsure if it’s temporary or possibly deadly. One of them traces their spinning head (not literal) and unexplained sensations to the Sangria punch – leading to some angry confrontations and outrageous behavior.
While none of the individual performances really stand out … this is not a film about certain interesting characters … it should be noted that Sofia Boutella (HOTEL ARTEMIS) plays Selva, the dance company’s choreographer, and Kiddy Smile plays Daddy, the DJ who keeps the music pumping. Watching the movie is truly like observing a group acid trip through the eyes of someone on an acid trip. The camera is sometimes invading intimate moments, while other times hovering or wildly spinning above or below. Sometimes it felt like a GoPro was strapped to a frantic parakeet that had just been set free from its cage. Combining the camera work with the constant thundering of music, some might describe the film as hypnotic and hallucinatory (I prefer horrific).
While most of the dancers seem to lose all sense of reality, some react more violently than others. Hysterics run rampant, especially in a sequence where a young boy is locked in a utility closet by his mother. Whether the scene was for shock value or merely in keeping with the filmmaker’s demented approach is unclear – either way, this came across as too much on top of too much. Simply put, the film is a relentless assault on the eyes and ears and all sense of decency … just as Gaspar Noe likely intended.
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