Irréversible (2002)
Directed by Gaspar Noé

Film Review

With his extreme nihilistic debut shocker Seul contre tous (1998), Argentinean born director Gaspar Noé was both reviled and praised in almost equal measure for his outrageously provocative approach to filmmaking.  In his subsequent full-length film, Irréversible, he mounts the cinematic equivalent of a terrorist coup, taking his cinema audience hostage and subjecting them to ninety minutes of the most gratuitously horrific and degrading material his warped artistic genius could conceive.  The film is as brilliant as it is flawed, something which has divided critics as much as its undeniably shocking content.  Irréversible is literally the kind of film most sane, well-adjusted people can only watch once, but the experience - for good or for bad - is one that will linger forever.

Irréversible is not a film for the faint hearted.  It has been condemned with an almost religious fervour in some quarters for the uncompromising violence shown in its first half.  And perhaps deservedly so, since this consists of a man having his head beaten to pulp before our eyes and a seemingly interminable rape scene.  Both of these sequences are traumatic to sit through and have prompted many reviewers to question Noé's motives - is he simply using extreme violence as a device to earn himself a notoriety which his artistic talent alone could not win him?  The rape scene is particularly troubling, mainly because of the way it is filmed, in a single take with a totally static camera - a striking contrast to the frantic camera movements used in the film's first frenzied twenty minutes or so.  Whereas other directors have attempted to portray the horror of rape through clever cinematography and sharp editing, Noé simply forces us to sit and watch the event from the perspective of a passive observer - it is totally sick, yet also harrowingly effective.  You may question Noé's intent, but there's no denying that this particular enfant terrible knows what he is doing.

Another point of controversy is the film's reversed narrative structure.  The film begins with the horrific denouement of a tragic story and then relates the events which led up to this, in a series of episodes each lasting about ten minutes.  Whilst this is one technique Noé cannot be credited with having invented - the same idea was used much more effectively by Christopher Nolan in his masterful suspense drama Memento (2000) - it is employed to great effect and does show that there are viable alternatives to the conventional narrative approach.  Here, Noé justifies using the reverse narrative by cleverly provoking us to constantly reappraise what we have seen on the basis of what we subsequently learn.   The film begins at the story's chronological end, with the aftermath of an uncontrollable orgy of bloodlust, and then explains why this had to happen.  Inevitably, the conventional character development runs in reverse, which is a truly bizarre experience as characters who initially appear utterly loathsome gradually evolve into rather likeable individuals.

Noé is challenging his audience at so many different levels, often at the same time, and perhaps he is expecting too much.  The images of nihilistic destruction are just too shocking, the cinematography just too frenzied, that it is a struggle for even the most tolerant of spectators to rise to Noé's bait and make any kind of contact with the film's doomed protagonists.  Those who are not put off by the director's artistic excesses will be alarmed at how easily they are seduced into altering their viewpoint as the film progresses.  If the film has any moral justification it is here, as it shows us that our view of the world is fundamentally influenced by what we know of it.  The more we know, then, perhaps, the greater will be our compassion and our willingness to forgive.  It's a pity that Noé felt he had to go to such extreme lengths to make such a simple point, assuming that this was his objective.

Whether you can stomach its content or not, it is hard to deny that Irréversible has a stunning visual feel, and in this respect it is one of the most original films to have been made in the last decade.  The manically swirling, totally disorientating camera movements, accompanied by a chilling rhythmic soundtrack, make the shocking sequence in the gay bar an experience you are unlikely ever to forget - an awesome yet irresistible descent into the lower reaches of Hell.   The film's other strong selling point is its set of lead actors, Monica Bellucci, Vincent Cassel and Albert Dupontel, each of whom merits a host of awards for their participation in the film.  The film's later sequences with Belluci and Cassel (who are married in real-life) show a totally unexpected tenderness - a tenderness which is rendered unimaginably traumatic by what we have previously witnessed.  Maybe it pays not to know the future after all.

Whilst Irréversible merits its acclaim for the breathtaking daring and originality shown in its cinematography and narrative form, it is equally worthy of pillorying in other areas.  The dialogue - which was largely improvised - is generally atrocious, making some of the latter sequences in the film feel unbearably slow and uninspired.  It should also be said that much of the dialogue is sickeningly politically incorrect, reinforcing the (probably incorrect) impression that Noé is on some kind of homophobic crusade  ("gay bar equals Hell" whilst the "lovey-dovey heterosexual bedroom equates to Heaven" is how some have interpreted the film).   There are also a few faults in the film's narrative structure.  The film's opening prologue - involving a repulsively nude Philippe Nahon reminiscing on his life - feels horribly unnecessary, serving no apparent purpose.  The film's ending (or, if you prefer, the origin of its narrative) is so clumsily abstract that it is both unfathomable and ridiculous.  And the strobe effect at the very end of the film was presumably intended to prevent epileptics from watching the film - why?

As in his earlier works, Noé's technical brilliance is undermined by a lack of two essential qualities: artistic self-restraint and respect for his audience.  Excess in one area seems to be employed to cover paucity of creativity in another, and there is absolutely no sense that Noé cares how an audience might react to his films.  There is also an irksome tendency for the pretentious (illustrated by the glib "Time destroys all" phrase which Noé attaches to Irréversible in an unnecessary attempt at sloppy Wittgenstein-style exposition).  If you were not one of the vast majority of spectators who were driven away by the film's shocking content and dizzying visuals, the chances are that you left with the impression that, whilst the film made its mark, it offers rather an empty cinematic experience.  If Gaspar Noé manages to retain his ability to shock and impress with his technical inventiveness and, at the same time, take on subjects with depth and meaning without completely alienating his cinema audience, he stands a good chance of being judged as one of French cinema's great creative talents.

Film Synopsis

Marcus and his friend Pierre are on a killer rampage.  They storm a gay S&M nightclub in search of a man who must take their revenge.  They find him, or one of his associates, and proceed to beat him to death.  What could have caused these two young men to descend to the level of animals?  A few hours before, Marcus' girlfriend, Alex, was brutally raped by a gay pimp.  And before that, Marcus learnt that Alex was pregnant with his child...