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Enter the void

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I myself, having admired his previous feature, Seul Contre Tous, reacted fiercely against it as a piece of macho provocation. Enter the Void is, in its way, just as provocative, just as extreme, just as mad, just as much of an outrageous ordeal: it arrives here slightly re-edited from the version first shown at Cannes. But despite its querulous melodrama and crazed Freudian pedantries, it has a human purpose the previous film lacked, and its sheer deranged brilliance is magnificent. This is a grandiose hallucinatory journey into, and out of, hell: drugged, neon-lit and with a fully realised nightmare-porn aesthetic that has to be seen to be believed. This film, however, has a new motif: what we see is purely the point of view of its leading figure; we watch everything through his eyes. He is a small-time drug-dealer called Oscar Nathaniel Brown. His spirit hovers over the city, an unquiet ghost unable or unwilling to leave, watching over his sister Linda Paz de la Huerta , a pole-dancer now utterly alone in the world. He revisits in horrified anguish, primal scenes from his childhood, including the death of his parents in a car wreck, which has seeded in Oscar this obsessive closeness to his sister and a sexualised longing for his lost mother, which finds expression in an affair with an older woman in Tokyo. Through some bizarre karmic influence, Oscar's spirit now sets out to part Linda from her current boyfriend, sinister tough guy Mario Masato Tanno and to get her together with his friend Alex Cyril Roy , an amiable, dishevelled artist and the nearest thing this film has to a normal, sympathetic human being. Oscar's dead-man floating-eye view gives us a ringside seat at scenes of unending horror, violence, squalor and pain.

They were neck-deep in social nihilism, drowning in the worst of human nature. Here, death is not sad. It simply is. But it only happens just once in your life. By its nature it is extraordinary. If you are suffering or in pain, death is the best thing that can happen. First, the film dives into its opening credits, an assault of flashing words and staccato techno music. Just as we adjust to the anarchy, it dies. Cut to black. We talk with our sister Linda Paz de la Huerta on a balcony overlooking a world of neon and, after she leaves, smoke some DMT.

I myself, having admired his previous feature, Seul Contre Tous, reacted fiercely against it as a piece of macho provocation. Enter the Void is, in its way, just as provocative, just as extreme, just as mad, just as much of an outrageous ordeal: it arrives here slightly re-edited from the version first shown at Cannes.

But despite its querulous melodrama and crazed Freudian pedantries, it has a human purpose the previous film lacked, and its sheer deranged brilliance is magnificent. This is a grandiose hallucinatory journey into, and out of, hell: drugged, neon-lit and with a fully realised nightmare-porn aesthetic that has to be seen to be believed.

This film, however, has a new motif: what we see is purely the point of view of its leading figure; we watch everything through his eyes. He is a small-time drug-dealer called Oscar Nathaniel Brown. His spirit hovers over the city, an unquiet ghost unable or unwilling to leave, watching over his sister Linda Paz de la Huerta , a pole-dancer now utterly alone in the world. He revisits in horrified anguish, primal scenes from his childhood, including the death of his parents in a car wreck, which has seeded in Oscar this obsessive closeness to his sister and a sexualised longing for his lost mother, which finds expression in an affair with an older woman in Tokyo.

Through some bizarre karmic influence, Oscar's spirit now sets out to part Linda from her current boyfriend, sinister tough guy Mario Masato Tanno and to get her together with his friend Alex Cyril Roy , an amiable, dishevelled artist and the nearest thing this film has to a normal, sympathetic human being.

Oscar's dead-man floating-eye view gives us a ringside seat at scenes of unending horror, violence, squalor and pain.

Enter the Void is about life after death. Specifically, it's about the life after death that troubles all of us atheists and rationalists most of all: the life after death that we all believe in — other people's lives in this busy and unhappy world carrying on heedlessly after we are dead.

The POV-style changes as the film progresses. When Oscar is still alive, we see strictly what he sees, and the view is periodically impeded by his blinks — as the initial scenes continued, I found my own blink-rate coming into synch with Oscar's, and so this became invisible.

After his death, this falls silent and he sees the past partly impeded by the back of his own head. Then, this disappears as his spirit floats everywhere and anywhere: death as the ultimate out-of-body experience.

It's like a psychedelic innerspace version of Kubrick's , and the film even finally presumes to offer a version of the star-child rebirth. As for the overhead visions of violence and claustrophobic horror, they are clearly influenced by the climactic sequence of Scorsese's Taxi Driver.

The city is never seen in daytime. It is not real, but has merged with an illusory vision of the neon-model created by an artist friend of Victor's, and it is also an architecturalised version of those spiralling, kaleidoscopic snake-shapes that Oscar sees while tripping.

Some may find Enter the Void detestable and objectionable, though if they affect to find it "boring" I will not believe them. For all its hysterical excess, this beautiful, delirious, shocking film is the one offering us that lightning bolt of terror or inspiration that we hope for at the cinema. Topics World cinema. Drama films reviews. Reuse this content. Order by newest oldest recommendations. Show 25 25 50 All. Threads collapsed expanded unthreaded. Loading comments… Trouble loading? Most popular.



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