There's a tiny scene in this movie that is more chilling than the rape or the murder. During the rape, in the background at the end of the subway, a silhouetted figure appears - an ordinary Pierre on his way from A to B. He pauses, momentarily mesmerised by the scene unfolding before him, then slopes off into the shadows.
He'll take the Overpass.
This is your choice with this movie. Avoid it but all means (most will), walk out if you must, but consider your options because this is film that forces you to confront your reaction to on-screen violence like no other I have seen. Bar one: At the end of Noe's "I Stand Alone", shortly before a scene of shocking violence between father and daughter, a flashing caption appears warning the audience that time is counting down to the impending violence and they really should leave the theatre if they can't handle it. In other words time is about to destroy everything but, if you know the score, you have the choice. You can turn away and take the overpass or you can confront "it". It won't be pretty but life is not pretty. At the beginning of "Irreversible" an old man confesses to a stranger that he slept with his daughter: "I can't stop thinking about it...she was so cute...". The stranger muses on this and attempts to comfort the old man: "There are no bad deeds, only deeds".
That's right, this film will take you to a very dark place indeed.
Gasper Noe is a great film maker and "Irreversible" could be his defining work. Outside of all the hype over his confrontational style, the man clearly wants us to walk out of the cinema (at the end of the film, if at all possible) and have an intelligent debate about real violence and our response to it. This is the polar opposite to "gratuitous". These are Big Ideas folks! Stick that "2001" poster right slap bang in shot one more time Gasper - you and I are on the same wavelength.
Yes it's true, the gritty nightmare of the opening scenes are darker and more sweat-inducing than any I have witnessed in contemporary cinema. Really, they are. The breakneck chaos of the mens' search for the Rectum club, the (inky) black humour of the "she-male" scene in the alley, the shattering of the (wrong!) head in the gay club (not a big fan of those establishments I gather, Gasper?) and of course the rape of Belluchi - all contrive to nail you to your seat. Unless your're my friend Ben, of course, who shot the hell out of his seat about six minutes into the rape never to be seen again.
Yes, these sequences may shock even the most jaded and disensitised 21st Century film-jock out of his torpor. The acting is superb and the camerawork typically (for Noe) unhinged. The ending, like that of "I Stand Alone" leaves the audience in some doubt as to whether the nastiness all happened at all. Sometimes we need a mental get-out clause, Gasper obviously does as he's done this ending two films in a row. The final flourish of strobing cuts the movie dead without end credits (we had those at the beginning, of course) and you may, as I did, find yourself stunned, exhausted and rather impressed. Now, whatever your response, try discussing your immediate reaction with your fellow shell-shocked audience member - it often helps to share the experience of being run over by a train.
Before he disappeared into his own personal Rectum Club, David Cronenberg had the potential to make a movie like this. Ah, no matter...
I wouldn't compel anyone to see this movie but I'd certainly remind them of their choice. I've pitched my flag - I think it's a great movie.
He'll take the Overpass.
This is your choice with this movie. Avoid it but all means (most will), walk out if you must, but consider your options because this is film that forces you to confront your reaction to on-screen violence like no other I have seen. Bar one: At the end of Noe's "I Stand Alone", shortly before a scene of shocking violence between father and daughter, a flashing caption appears warning the audience that time is counting down to the impending violence and they really should leave the theatre if they can't handle it. In other words time is about to destroy everything but, if you know the score, you have the choice. You can turn away and take the overpass or you can confront "it". It won't be pretty but life is not pretty. At the beginning of "Irreversible" an old man confesses to a stranger that he slept with his daughter: "I can't stop thinking about it...she was so cute...". The stranger muses on this and attempts to comfort the old man: "There are no bad deeds, only deeds".
That's right, this film will take you to a very dark place indeed.
Gasper Noe is a great film maker and "Irreversible" could be his defining work. Outside of all the hype over his confrontational style, the man clearly wants us to walk out of the cinema (at the end of the film, if at all possible) and have an intelligent debate about real violence and our response to it. This is the polar opposite to "gratuitous". These are Big Ideas folks! Stick that "2001" poster right slap bang in shot one more time Gasper - you and I are on the same wavelength.
Yes it's true, the gritty nightmare of the opening scenes are darker and more sweat-inducing than any I have witnessed in contemporary cinema. Really, they are. The breakneck chaos of the mens' search for the Rectum club, the (inky) black humour of the "she-male" scene in the alley, the shattering of the (wrong!) head in the gay club (not a big fan of those establishments I gather, Gasper?) and of course the rape of Belluchi - all contrive to nail you to your seat. Unless your're my friend Ben, of course, who shot the hell out of his seat about six minutes into the rape never to be seen again.
Yes, these sequences may shock even the most jaded and disensitised 21st Century film-jock out of his torpor. The acting is superb and the camerawork typically (for Noe) unhinged. The ending, like that of "I Stand Alone" leaves the audience in some doubt as to whether the nastiness all happened at all. Sometimes we need a mental get-out clause, Gasper obviously does as he's done this ending two films in a row. The final flourish of strobing cuts the movie dead without end credits (we had those at the beginning, of course) and you may, as I did, find yourself stunned, exhausted and rather impressed. Now, whatever your response, try discussing your immediate reaction with your fellow shell-shocked audience member - it often helps to share the experience of being run over by a train.
Before he disappeared into his own personal Rectum Club, David Cronenberg had the potential to make a movie like this. Ah, no matter...
I wouldn't compel anyone to see this movie but I'd certainly remind them of their choice. I've pitched my flag - I think it's a great movie.