Climax

Watching Gaspar Noé's films is like discovering new forms of communication. The opening dance scene is hypnotic perfection and pure ecstasy, while everything else is mainly about how far you are willing to go and how far your spectator endurance reaches. A spectacular cameraman show and epileptic choreography accompanied by techno on a trip; or in other words, Noé knows how to mix a tailor-made sangria. He collected his most frequent trademarks, scattered them at a dance party and purposefully created a hallucinogenic apocalypse with zero plot, but maximum efficiency. A wild and predatory experimental ride, incredibly progressive and, at the same time, narcissistically immersed in itself. But what else would you expect from Noé? (07/06/2018)

We haven’t had a party gone wrong quite like this before. A brilliant one-shot musical intro, a few lines to get to know the characters and the party begins. For the participating unfortunates, a badly mixed sangria can work real magic. Climax is a super engaging acid trip. Out of Noé’s entire filmography, it is the most similar to Enter the Void, but this time taking place in a few rooms and one hallway. Dancing and frolicking, collective paranoia, hallucinogenic madness. The movie is tense and scary in places, but by Noé’s standards, it is quite restrained in terms of sex and violence. Four stars thanks to the festival atmosphere (or rather the constant hunger for innovative things), but otherwise it is just the same self-obsessed inanity with pseudo-philosophical insights as found in most of the director‘s filmography. [Cannes] (05/15/2018)

When I see Gaspar Noé's name, I’m instantly intrigued. I expect an abstract concept, absurd execution, all set to the vibe of 90s French techno and house. And Climax delivers exactly that. Cinematically, it’s a masterpiece. The opening dance scene is a brilliant example of how even in the midst of chaotic movement, there’s a sense of order. It’s a great introduction to the dancers, who then engage in slightly tedious, nonsensical chatter to introduce themselves—a nod to 80s horror that earned my respect. But then, the real madness begins. Words can’t do it justice; you just have to see it. It’s pure insanity on screen—shots that play with sound, visuals, backgrounds, and a camera that creates unbelievable sequences. And above all, the unfolding chaos is something you could never imagine. (06/16/2021)

Many people I know love this film, so I apologise to them beforehand. I suffered. A totally empty camera exhibtion that if it wasn’t for the titles nobody would have a clue as to what it is supposed to be about. The staging must have been hard, there’s no doubt about that, but that’s pretty much all I can praise. If you played only the soundtrack to someone, they would sue you for personal injuries, and this is the very aggressive and shallow way Noe tries to achieve the depression and exhaustion of the audience, also in purely visual terms. And I don’t see anything praise-worthy about that, because other than fuck-all, the only thing I can take from this is that Boutella has wonderful shape and movements and that in the next party I will drink my beer from MY own glass. I’m afraid that this is my first and also last film by Noé. (02/27/2019)

Gaspar Noé dances an extremely dirty dance, and with his help, this manages to entrance and fascinate you for quite some time. And yet during the excessively stretched-out dialogue, a feeling arose that someone was stretching me out. And that was before the anticipated barrage of purposeless violence and annoying antics accompanied by the spinning of the camera was even on the program, and the fact that the stubborn director refused to move from one spot even a little bit after so many years almost made me laugh. And I had already lost my patience with works presented to the clever audience long ago. (10/31/2018)