CLIMAX: (Bored To) Death On The Dancefloor

Gaspar Noé may be 54 years old, but he still operates like French cinema’s reigning enfant terrible. It says something about his penchant for arthouse provocation that his previous film, 2015’s Love, garnered an accumulative reaction akin to a gallic shrug, even as he filmed himself masturbating to completion on camera, in 3D.

Three years later, and even the director is somewhat bemused (and you can probably assume, somewhat disappointed) that his return to more shocking exploitation territory has been rapturously received.

Will leave you feeling like the designated driver on a night out

Climax sees one of cinema’s most stylish maximalists tone down his extreme edges, both in terms of content and the harsh strobe lighting, making for what should theoretically be the ideal entry-level work for somebody unaccustomed to his abrasive back catalogue. Irreversible and Enter the Void gained notoriety for their portrayals of sexual violence, with the former also doubling down on homophobic, transphobic and racist content for good measure – all filmed in a disorienting, over-stylised way that appeared to glamorise its repugnant content in a genuinely sickening manner.

Noé’s latest, for the most part, softens its approach to confrontational themes, and reveals a glaring truth: when separated from stereotypically offensive subject matter, being immersed into the drug-infused headspace of a Noé movie becomes insufferably tedious very quickly.

Instead of acting as an excuse for the director to show off his unique command of aesthetics, using them to help amplify the horror on screen as opposed to using them in conjunction with deplorable subject matter, Climax leaves the distinctive feeling of being the designated driver on a night out. There are brief moments of inspired madness, but the majority of the film is spent trapped listening to inane conversations with poorly established characters – the sudden lapse into chaos somehow less torturous than having to spend significant amounts of time with any of the people onscreen.

The plot couldn’t be simpler; a French dance troupe are celebrating after their final rehearsals before flying out to America for a competition. At their party, people slowly begin to feel disoriented after drinking some of the sangria in the punchbowl; nobody saw who spiked the drink, but the whodunnit quickly becomes irrelevant as mob mentality (and strong hallucinogenics) kicks in, and everybody begins to have a distinctively bad trip.

Noé conforms to the textbook horror movie trope of having his characters be imbeciles of every conceivable variety. The only problem is, with such a sizeable ensemble (made up, with the notable exception of Sofia Boutella, by professional dancers with no prior acting experience) making his characters indistinctive stereotypes doesn’t make for anything resembling tension when horrors begin to unfold. The most effective horror makes you believe in the characters it establishes, creating tension due to the stakes – here, Noé introduces his entire cast via VCR interviews that play out before we even see the idents of the film’s production companies.

Instead of introducing any distinctive character traits, we are presented with inane, mumbling conversations from a variety of poorly conceived caricatures. Then, when we hear them converse amongst each other later on, they still prove to be insufferable company when stripped from the forced professional context in which they were established. These are, quite frankly, the most dull group of people you could conceive, and the ones who do have any distinctive traits are so cartoonishly unlikeable (yes, we do have to sit through extensive scenes of two guys essentially discussing trying to have sex without consent – and yes, Noé does play this for laughs) that it’s hard to care about anything that follows.

The director has gone on the record to say that the film was made without a completed script, and the majority of the conversations within are improvised. Well, if this is the best improv they could muster, it certainly acts as a necessary reminder for Noé to hire actual actors next time.

Gaspar gone Political? No Way.

Climax has also become a certain talking point due to what some critics have viewed as uncharacteristic themes for Noé – commentary on France’s current political climate. The distrust and false accusations that spread when the mystery of who spiked the punch bowl arises proves to be somewhat similar to the societal distrust of immigrants that led to the far right Marine le Pen getting to the second round of the country’s 2017 Presidential election. To hammer this point home further, the troupe perform in front of a French flag, with the film even containing the goofy opening credit “THIS IS A FRENCH FILM AND PROUD OF IT”.

So, is one of cinema’s leading provocateurs concerned about the rise of nationalism in his own country? Of course not – the flag was only placed on the background due to a last minute set design decision, and even if the story has parallels to a modern political climate, it doesn’t offer anything substantial to say about the issues. Substance isn’t Noé’s forte, which is why his films frequently prove to be tedious, as opposed to the transgressive, shocking works of art to which he aspires.

Noé’s aesthetic decisions also prove to be firmly rooted in adolescence. Even when separated from the mock profundity of Enter the Void, he’ll still randomly throw Godard-influenced intertitles with cod philosophical statements like “Death is a wonderful experience” that don’t correlate to the action on screen. His use of music is more inspired, but in a sequence riffing on the classic subway sequence from Possession, using Aphex Twin’s “Windowlicker” as a needle drop is a counterintuitive measure – not only am I thinking of a film sequence more creepily effective than the one I’m presented with here, I’m also thinking of a significantly more unsettling music video.

The eclectic 80’s and 90’s soundtrack will definitely satisfy music aficionados of those eras, but it doesn’t drive the action onscreen so much as awkwardly play in the background, wasting the opportunity for Noé to build them more firmly into the otherwise enveloping sound design.

Climax: Conclusion

Climax is an oddly boring affair, that shows Gaspar Noé has little of substance to offer when divorced from his liability to offend. You’d have a better time sat watching people trip acid while you’re stone cold sober.

Climax is now in UK cinemas on limited release, and will be released in the US by A24 later in 2018. All international release dates are here.