Climax is the story of a French dance troupe preparing for a tour of the United States, a dream come true for the aspiring performers. The troupe is rehearsing in an empty school with a small celebration planned following the practice. Someone, however, lace the sangria at the afterparty with a hallucinogen, turning their euphoria into a descent into madness as they try to survive the night.
Climax’s story is straightforward and uncomplicated; someone spiked the punch and chaos has ensued, escalating the higher everyone gets. But what the story lacks in weight, it makes up for in batshit. The troupe’s descent into madness ranges from the absurdly hilarious to the tragic as more of their acceptable selves disappear and make way for the baser person inside us all. And amidst the absurdity, I found this to potentially be director Gaspar Noé’s point in all of this; who are we really at our core, the person we present in everyday life or what we become when pushed to the brink? Throughout the film, we’re treated to hints of the ensemble’s personality traits, their fears, their desires, and once they approach sanity’s edge after being drugged, we can juxtapose that to what we’ve been shown. Some of them become different people, displaying behavior that is the polar opposite of what we saw from them while sober, while other become amplified versions of themselves; their innate nature taken to the very extreme. Their journeys on this amplified mental plain are indicative of our own in reality; the fact that duress can expose who a person really is.
The cinematography in Climax is clearly the star of the show in the film. From the opening overhead shot to the interviews of the dance ensemble laying out their hopes, dreams, and journeys displayed on a makeshift TV stand rather than directly through the camera, Climax is shot very inventively and eye-catchingly. The camera work featured is also very ambitious and imaginative, featuring multiple long take shots that last more than 10 minutes (including one that lasts an astounding 42 minutes) and involve the camera tracking numerous actors through multiple locations, rivaling the ambitious achievement in technical camera work of 2014’s Birdman. The way that director Gaspar Noé films the dance scenes in the movie allows for viewers to feel fully immersed in the performances, as if we’re standing right there in the middle of the circle with the ensemble. The feeling of being up close and surrounded by the dancers as they perform intensely makes for a visceral experience that tingles all of the senses.
In addition to the cinematography, Climax’s elaborate dance scenes power the film, featuring intense, long shot dance numbers, a testament to the skill of those cast for the film. The opening dance number is a long take lasting almost 13 minutes featuring choreography from the cast that was unrehearsed. As assaulting and visceral as Climax’s cinematography and story are, the dance choreography is equally so, preparing the audience as best it can for what is ahead in the film.
Climax is a visual tour de force, featuring cinematography work and world-class dance choreography that leaps off the screen and is impressive to watch throughout. For fans of the visual aspect of cinema, the film is worth seeing for this alone. For fans that enjoy a good story, many will find the simplistic plot lacking and not engaging enough to sit through for over an hour. As impressive as everything is surrounding it, watching people just trip balls on a loop may not be for everyone. There is however, a bit of a message in the never ending chaos about madness and the monsters that lie within us; are our baser selves our true selves? What is each of us capable of when at our worst? These existential questions can be found for some more prodding viewers, but I can envision most being so thrown by Gaspar Noé’s trademark absurdity that they never make it to this line of thought in the first place. If you like crazy, off the wall movies, you probably should’ve already seen Climax by now.
Image: A24
