Climax is similar to Luca Guadagnino‘s Suspiria in several ways.They’re two dance films with a desirable choreographer and a horrific downward spiral that overflows into nightmare fuel. The two films may draw comparisons since they hit theaters within six months of each other. Argentine-French filmmaker Gaspar Noé (Irréversible, Enter the Void) and his psychological horror dance film Climax intend to destroy you sensually. Noé’s trademark is unsettling cinema that assaults the audience with savage cinematography, scarring sexual sequences, and reciprocated anarchy.
The film revolves around the concept of dance being everything to these dancers. Choreographer Selva (Sofia Boutella) and DJ Daddy interview the dancers as the film opens divulging their deepest fears, history with drugs, sexual regrets and desires, and lack of limitations. They practice in an abandoned school in a remote location in the middle of winter and rehearse for their manager Emmanuelle. They celebrate by drinking the sangria Emmanuelle has made for them and the first half of the film is mostly everyone drinking, mingling, and gossiping about one another. But it comes to light that someone spiked the sangria with LSD. Everyone figuratively and literally loses their minds in the most violent and controversial ways imaginable.
Climax was shot with only a five-page script and it often shows with its lengthy dance sequences and lack of dialogue for exaggerated periods. In the film, these dancers have only been working together for three days. In reality, the ten-minute opening sequence is one continuous shot and required 15-16 takes to complete. There’s this undeniable fluidity to the dancer’s choreography; how they’re able to produce in the moment. Seemingly clicking instantly with a performance that showcases their abilities both as a single dance unit and as a unique eccentric. A lot goes into dancing like this; intimacy, flexibility, endurance, and this energetic kind of unity that symbolizes how close everyone is.
After everyone has the opportunity to relax, partake in conversations that are so raunchy they’re staggering, and the almost unanimous decision that God has no presence in dance; a form of expression takes place. There’s no pattern or choreography involved. This movement is like blowing off steam where every stomp, spin, and head or hand shake is a remedy to every care or worry this group of young individuals may have. There are no restraints here and this is their way of saying, “I am unleashed. Witness me.”
Once the LSD kicks in though, Climax becomes too weird and hysterical for its own good. A woman in the early stages of pregnancy is punched and kicked in the stomach. She then begins punching herself in the stomach repeatedly once she realizes retribution is out of the question. A woman with a cocaine addiction has her head catch on fire and an older brother is a little too infatuated with his younger sister and it’s pushed far beyond what is considered incestuous. Dancers begin urinating in the middle of the dance floor while others are a bloody mess. There’s so much puking and screaming that you wish for temporary deafness.
Meanwhile, the camera rotates and spins constantly; sometimes circling the room or being completely upside down. Combine all of that with the flashing red lights during the final act of the film and your brain feels like it was in a head-on collision; your ears are ringing, eyes can’t focus on anything, and your head is swimming in this tornado of ingested animalistic chaos.
Sofia Boutella has a five-minute sequence where she comes completely unglued. She slams herself against walls, grinds on the floor, and digs her hands and arms into her pantyhose all while yelling and squawking like a wild animal in heat. It’s a baffling sequence because it’s fairly laughable and kind of an insult to call acting. However, since the actors/dancers chose to express themselves this way was their decision. Noé encouraged improvisation and this is how Boutella interpreted Selva’s inability to cope with a bad acid trip.
Climax is a lust-fueled freak show; a rabid and bonkers carnival of horrors. You understand what Climax is about, but it’s so nauseating and difficult to watch at times. It is the first time that there was this bewildering sensation to hurl before, during, and after the viewing of a film. In a way, the fact that this choreographed chimera triggered such a disgusting response is a statement in itself. Climax isn’t enjoyable or entertaining; it’s a raping of the senses because that’s what Gaspar Noé does best. On the other hand though, why would you want to endure such madness? This film may be an escape from your reality, but Noé rips it away without remorse. Climax clobbers you with a disorienting phantasmagoria so jarring that it leaves you trembling and dumbfounded.
Climax is now playing in select theaters. It is currently available on Region 2 DVD and Blu-ray through Arrow Films.