TIFF09 REVIEW: Enter the Void [2010]

Rating: NR | Runtime: 161 minutes
Release Date: May 5th, 2010 (France) / September 24th, 2010 (USA)
Studio: Wild Bunch Distribution / IFC Films
Director(s): Gaspar Noé
Writer(s): Gaspar Noé / Lucile Hadzihalilovic (with the help of)

Did they hear me? Did I scream?

Words cannot describe the visually rich and assaultingly epic tale of death and its aftermath of memories and spiritual travel that is Gaspar Noé’s Enter the Void. Self-proclaimed as “weird” by the director himself at it’s world premiere Toronto International Film Festival screening (the print that screened at Cannes was a work-in-progress, he says he attempted to create a near death experience on film.

So, with stunning imagery, fullscreen frames of solid bright color pulsating at epileptic seizure-inducing rates, extended moments of seamless cutting to make long passages appear to be one take, first-person camerawork spliced together from straight shots merging into fish-eye lens distortion, extreme close-ups (computer generated or otherwise) appearing like a fly filmed the movie in flight, and the maze-like electricity of downtown Tokyo at night, one must sit down and let it wash over you to fully appreciate the experience.

Noé is a genius of some kind who’s always existed on the industry’s fringes—appalling some, disgusting others, and written off by the rest. As such, I can’t genuinely say I’d recommend this movie to anyone. Therein lies the problem. Because if words can’t describe it and I couldn’t in good conscience send you to see it due to its extensive drug use, realistic sex scenes, and harrowing moments of graphic brutality, where does it go from here?

It’s nonetheless an important film just via the technical prowess on display. Noé has an eye for cinema and utilizes God knows what for shots that I’ve never seen before. He said after the screening that a lot of post-production was necessary to craft each moment into this finished piece of art. Aerial shots of the cities were recreated with computers with frames meticulously darkened or lightened when needed. Noé is so specific and detail-oriented that he came up and said he’d never seen it so dark once the film ended. That the projector must be different than his … but what can he do?

The giant phallus mentioned whenever someone speaks about the movie is an interesting moment since you can’t put a camera where it need to be to capture the shot. There are religious underpinnings throughout like a Buddhist book given to Oscar to peruse or the issue of reincarnation and whether the soul travels after death to find a new vessel to be reborn in or just a journey back that recalls his own conception. Noé mentioned he wanted it to feel like the time he watched the Lady in the Lake on mushrooms. I can’t say I’ve ever done hallucinogens, but I can imagine the feeling would be similar.

There’s so much to love as a cinephile here. The flashbacks to a time where Oscar and his sister Linda were in each others’ lives—orphaned after the horrific death of their parents—are shot with a filter that makes them seem like fairytales. The amount of crap crammed into each frame of the present day is immense whether Oscar’s apartment, a filthy nightclub bathroom during a supposed drug drop-off, the dressing room at Linda’s strip club, or even the fictional “Hotel Love” made real in our dying spirit’s vision from an elaborate model city. And the enhanced close-ups are phenomenal like when we swoop up from an ashtray holding a lit cigarette that burns and sizzles away. It’s all gorgeous in a messed up way.

The sequence depicting the car crash that took their parents’ lives is unforgettable. The sound is deafening. The truck’s headlights come straight for us as we watch from the backseat. And the visceral feeling of being rocked back from an impact we cannot feel is impressively effective. You become Oscar—transported into the movie to live through his chaos and turmoil. I’m liking the movie more and more as I write, reliving each scene and remembering how they grabbed me and threw me around. Yet I still don’t know if I’ll ever want or have the chance to see it again. Don’t expect this hitting your local multiplex any time soon since its subject matter goes well beyond your regular NC-17 flick.

I don’t want to nitpick the acting since it’s such a small part of the ride, but you can’t help noticing the amateurish quality. Nathaniel Brown plays Oscar in his debut role, but admittedly isn’t on-screen very much. Even so, listening to him speak via voiceover while looking through his eyes can be somewhat painful with awkwardly unrealistic line deliveries. Linda is played by Paz de la Huerta, a friend of Noé who said she was surprised when cast because she didn’t realize she was even up for the part. She has an extensive filmography of small roles, but one must wonder whether she earned the spot due to her comfort with nudity and sex scenes rather than her acting skill.

As I said, the performances come secondary to any visual flourishs since the actors become pawns to be played with and shot within these atmospheric environments. There is one riveting turn, however, thanks to Emily Alyn Lind as a young Linda in flashbacks. This little girl is phenomenal. Her screaming inside the car at the moment of the crash or being taken away from her brother by a family for adoption sent chills down my spine. So emotionally draining, I worry for the parents who let her participate in such a demanding role, but can’t deny the power her presence she adds.

There really isn’t much more to say. Just know going in that the journey will be difficult to complete yet very worthwhile if you open your mind to its outside-of-the-box beauty. Straight from the get-go with an extended title sequence quickly flashing every single name of anyone who worked on the project with a strobe light effect, you begin to see what’s in store for your eyes and mind. I might buy the film on DVD just to pause through this opening to see the myriad fonts and letter treatments used in each frame.

Even Noé’s name, which flies by numerous times due to his extensive credits here, is changed with every instance. Sometimes it resembles a metal band’s logo, sometimes a video game title, and always flashes a tad too quickly to fully process. That itself is a good way to sum things up with Enter the Void being two-and-a-half hours of disturbing and magical imagery that overwhelms you with its rapid pacing. An audience member asked the director if he questioned including any specific scenes to which Noé responded, “If it made the movie, I must have liked it.” No truer words could be spoken as this two-years-in-the-making opus was crafted from a love that only a parent and child can share.