‘Climax’: Gaspar Noé’s dizzyingly violent dance into chaos
There’s not a Gaspar Noé movie that doesn’t assault your senses, forcing the audience into intense submission. It doesn’t take long for viewers to get wrapped up in Noé’s vivid and anxiety-inducing world, where everything feels disorientating. From Irreversible, perhaps his most violent, to Lux Æterna, defined by its strobing lights, Noé’s movies are not for the faint of heart.
Then there’s Climax, perhaps the most stressful Noé film. As the chaos unfolds, there is absolutely no respite for either the characters or the audience. It’s the kind of movie that makes your heart rate increase, yet one that it’s hard to look away from. Released in 2018, it largely consists of non-actors – most are dancers Noé had found online or at local vogue battles.
After finding inspiration in ballroom culture and krumping, Noé set out to make a film about dancing. Unsurprisingly, the filmmaker decided to explore the dance group’s downfall, chronicling their descent into the depths of madness. However, the movie gets off to a fairly tame start with interview clips of the dancers explaining what the art form means to them playing on a screen.
Surrounding the television sets these clips are shown on are stacks of VHS tapes and books, most of which are incredibly violent, sexual or twisted – foreshadowing events that will soon take place. Titles like Salo, Possession, Eraserhead, Suspiria and The Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome line the screen, which introduces us to the unique range of characters.
This epilogue gives way to the opening dance sequence, which is one of the most mesmerising ever put to film. The characters weave in and out of view, flailing their limbs, twisting their bodies into unnatural positions and climbing over each other. As a pounding instrumental version of ‘Supernature’ by Cerrone plays, Noé instantly invites us into the dance group’s world, which feels exciting and energetic.
The celebratory feeling continues as the characters begin drinking sangria and the afterparty gets underway, although this soon morphs into a considerably more sinister atmosphere. As the characters chat among themselves, many of them, especially the men, prove to be misogynistic, sex-obsessed, narcissistic and off-putting. A long, interrupted shot is subsequently used as it becomes clear that all is not what it seems. The sangria has been spiked with acid, causing everyone to start hallucinating and acting strangely.
From here, true chaos unfurls, with Noé using the setup to explore the way that people, when not in their right mind, can do the unimaginable. This isn’t a story designed to condemn the use of drugs; rather, Noé is interested in diving into the human mind to dissect how we can so easily be swayed by group thinking and how panic and pressure can make us act irrationally and violently. The group fights among themselves while attempting to find the culprit, allowing Noé to highlight how something great can so quickly be ravaged and destroyed.
As the snow falls down outside the rural building they’re using as a rehearsal space, and the sun goes down and the electricity goes out, there’s only so much time before violence and death ruin everything. The continuous, fluid camera movements and bright-coloured lighting make for a claustrophobic atmosphere, turning the film into an uninterrupted descent into the depths of hell. Music by the likes of Aphex Twin, Thomas Banglater and Soft Cell thumps over the soundtrack, with Noé truly immersing the audience in chaos and dizziness that is both terrifying and captivating.
