Control is an illusion

Rating: 8/10 (22 September 2019)

Climax doesn't deviate from the standards that Noé has set himself since his feature-length début Seul Contre Tous in 1998. A typically extreme, harrowing and depressing affair, Climax, on the surface, tells the story of a troupe of young French dance students who party overnight in their studio and fall prey to one of their number who spikes the punch with LSD. This results in a number of shockingly horrific situations for the students and what starts out as a fun, innocent evening celebrating their craft and achievements turns into an irreversible catastrophe involving rape, abuse, self-harm and death. But beyond that, like many of Noé's films, Climax is a warning of the transient brevity of life's gifts and of not falling prey to the dark temptations of unchecked hedonism.
Climax is directed in a typically disorienting style both in its chronology and its camerawork. The film starts at the end point, rolling the end credits at the start and showing the agonised death of one of the students before going back to the beginning of the evening to present how things got to this point. In this film, as with many others of Noé's, there is a strong focus on camera motion and long takes. After the audition tapes for the troupe, in which we are shown the promising, excited interviewees on a CRT set literally bookended by various tomes and VHS tapes relating to psychosis/psychopathy, the film cuts to the dance hall showing the students practicing their impressive new dance act in its entirety before running on to the start of the party itself all in the same take. In between the interview tapes and the dance routine Noé flashes onscreen one of his trademark blocks of text, this one telling us that EXISTENCE IS A FLEETING ILLUSION. This is a time-honoured warning (for example, in Hinduism the universe itself is thought to be an illusion/maya) but Noé's focus here is on the word 'fleeting'. The good things in life can be short-lived and worth treasuring, and the long dance sequence, which is stunningly choreographed, seems to end too quickly in spite of being a technically and temporally long take. It's so well done that as an audience we don't want it to end.
Noé presents multiple themes in the films and this 'bookending' is just one of them, likely alluding to the bookending of life with birth and death. The dance sequence at the start is long but enjoyable whereas, at the end of the film, when the LSD has taken its full toll and the students all 'freak out' in a bad trip, the sequence is painfully long, but this is a sequence which we do want to end but which drags on. Noé often concentrates on the victims' situation and here, just like the dance students, we experience their mania along with them, wanting the scene to end as it draws itself out with the swirling camera movements showing that everything is 'out of step' - as an audience we have as little control over the film's grip as the students have over their situation. But control is also an illusion, and sometimes terrible unforeseen things happen to us, further reminding us that we should make the most of life's benefits.
The film is split into several sections of long takes, each one with their own distinct camera style. In the opening dance scene the camerawork is as 'controlled' as the dance students themselves, moving with them, allowing them to display their form fully, not missing a moment, it's almost as if the camera has its own choreography. As the situation in the party deteriorates the camera style changes, and at one point, after a few drinks, when the students have an impromptu dance-off, the camera shows the scene from above, constantly rotating, warning us of the chaos soon to come. By the end of the film, the camera cannot hold a straight shot, rotating upside down, tumbling back and forth, with all order, planning and organisation at the whim of the tragedy we see unfolding.
Like with many of his films, Noé uses the significance of colour to full effect. As with Love, he is particularly fond of using red and green, red being of special import in Climax. Whether it's the red of the dance studio floor, the red of the sangria or the red of the emergency lighting, this colour seems to represent a start and end point (motionlessness), the precious blood of life and death, whereas he uses green to show points of transition (motion) between physical and psychological locales. Blue seems to represent a rare environment of safety, like the blue room where two of the girl students make out and calmly fall asleep within, locking out the madness of the dance hall and their partners. When the power in the hall trips out, the lights flash green-blue-green, again representing a transitional state and the end of any safe point where the evening could have been salvaged. White is the bringer of death, and this can come in the form of the snow of the winter outside which slowly envelops and kills a number of the students, or Psyche who spikes the LSD, a tall blonde wearing a short white dress who effectively acts as the orchestrating angel of death. Indeed, as we see her dropping liquid LSD into the whites of her own eyes at the end of the film (which in her interview she mentions her 'flatmate' doing. and the kind of thing which she wants to "get away" from), Noé reminds us that DEATH IS AN EXTRAORDINARY EXPERIENCE before the screens 'whites out' and the movie ends. White, a colour often associated with madness, has fully taken control of and put to rest the events of the film. But it's no mercy kill.
One of the most important aspects of Climax is the emphasis on the choices we make in life. Emmanuelle is the only member of the troupe to have a child who goes everywhere with her, mentioning early in the film that her dancing life has changed as a result of his existence (another theme in Love). Her son Tito ends up representing her own failing to make the right choices, and signifies her self-resentment. Later in the film when she locks Tito in the transformer room she is fully aware of the danger she is putting him in, and when she loses the key (ambiguously intentionally) she has sealed his death warrant. When he electrocutes himself, wearing the significant red of a situational victim, Emmanuelle can't live with her guilt any longer and slits her wrists, but this is not just the guilt of killing her son, but the guilt of not being true to herself. Locking her self-resentment away doesn't work, and it comes back to kill her because she refuses to face it in spite of her earlier protestations that with Tito in tow, she is trying to make the best of a bad situation. Her words are noble, but they are betrayed by her actions which reflect what she really feels. This is where 'pro choice' and 'pro life' come to have equal significance beyond just having kids. Noé tells us that BIRTH IS A UNIQUE OPPORTUNITY and it's one that Emmanuelle has squandered both for herself and her child. We cannot escape ourselves or our true nature and this is just as applicable for Emmanuelle as it is for Psyche, who escaped from Berlin but was ultimately unable to escape from herself.
For those who are well versed in the works of Noé, Climax doesn't offer anything that new: it's Noé in typically extreme fashion exploring themes of life death, pain, suffering and all the ways in which these influence our lives. What's most important is the storytelling and symbolism which Noé injects into the film, showing us that there are signs and warnings all around us in our daily lives telling us to enjoy and savour the positivity of existence. The long dance take at the beginning is similarly savoured by the camera, and us as viewers, and in giving us this indulgence Noé shows us both how fantastic and impressive life can be, but also how much there is to waste if we're not careful or thankful enough.