The only thing I can assure you about Leos Carax’s Holy Motors is that it’s unlike anything else you will see this year. Whether or not you consider this a good thing or a bad thing will depend entirely on how you respond to the mysteries of Holy Motors. Myself, I was transfixed — even during the one segment (involving motion capture) I didn’t much care for. I was transfixed because it’s rare that we get the chance to encounter anything this freely inventive, this amusing, this ineffably sad and, yet, this full of life. The very fact that it’s almost certain to be one of the most divisive films of the year — despite its 91 percent approval rating on Rotten Tomatoes — is in itself a testament to its incredible fearlessness. That’s also part of its appeal, since it makes art feel a little dangerous (and it should).
I approached Holy Motors (which I’ve now seen three times) with very little knowledge of filmmaker Leos Carax. I’d read enough that I knew his name was an anagram of his real first and middle names, Alex Oscar. The only thing of his I’d seen was his “Merde” segment in Tokyo! (2009) — whose main character, Monsieur Merde, reappears here. And, going to see Holy Motors, I certainly understood that the film was…well, a significant departure from what you might call a normal movie. Well, I’m certainly not going to deny that — nor will I claim that it’s a film that doesn’t challenge the viewer (some consider that a bad thing). It is indeed a film that — like all truly worthwhile art — is open to multiple interpretations. However, I think it’s worth noting that for all this, it’s not hard to follow what’s going on in the storyline. In fact, this becomes evident quite early on in the film. What is not so clear is why it’s going on — and this is where interpretation comes into play.
The film’s opening is one of its key sequences. It features a packed theater with an almost entirely motionless audience that is apparently mesmerized by what’s happening on the screen. But how can they be? Their eyes are closed as whatever drama is playing out. Sounds from this film awaken a sleeping man (Carax), who enters the theater’s empty balcony through a secret door in the wall. He looks down on the sleeping audience, whereupon the sound of an ocean liner’s horn takes the film to its first actual sequence. The sound is a perfect segue because the story proper opens at a house that resembles an art deco steamship. Here is where the day begins for Monsieur Oscar (the remarkable Denis Lavant), who is setting off for his day’s work — all of which is conducted from a white stretch limo driven by a blonde woman named Celine (Edith Scob, who finally dons the mask she wore in her most famous film, 1960’s Eyes Without a Face). In the car — which doubles as a dressing room, complete with lighted makeup mirror — he receives his various “appointments.”
These range from the one he’s apparently still playing from the night before, to playing a stooped-over beggar woman whose world has been reduced to “pavement and feet,” to a motion capture artist, and then to the return of the Tokyo! character, M. Merde, whose wildly anti-social aggressions are again accompanied by music from Godzilla (1954). It is unclear whether M. Oscar’s utterance of, “Merde,” merely reflects his recognition of who he’s playing, or is an expression of disgust at doing the same role again. This round, Merde bites off a woman’s fingers, licks Eva Mendes’ armpit, carries her off to his lair in the sewer, redresses her, strips himself naked and crawls into her lap in a kind of very blasphemous Madonna and Child pose. This is not something you’re likely to see again any time soon.
There are other characters — a father, a killer and his victim, a dying man, a man returning to his suburban home. There’s even an accordionist — a role he undertakes for the film’s entr’acte. (After seeing this, I’m of the opinion that all films would be improved by such an addition.) There is also a telling encounter with a shadowy figure (played by that grand old man of French cinema, Michel Piccoli) who simply appears in the limo to critique Oscar’s performances — which some are finding a little tired. Oscar complains that technology has made the cameras so small that he has trouble even believing they’re there — a reflection of Carax’s dissatisfaction with the digitalization of cinema. “Isn’t this nostalgia a bit sentimental?” asks the man, who further asks why Oscar continues — only to be told that it is for the “beauty of the act.” “Beauty,” remarks the man, “They say it’s in the eye of the beholder.” “And if there’s no more beholder?” asks Oscar. (Like an unresponsive audience with their eyes closed perhaps?)
Late in the film, Oscar has an encounter with a lost love (splendidly played by Kylie Minogue) — a woman in his own profession. Their reminscing even includes a song for the woman that’s at once beautifully moving and just slightly silly — played out in the gutted remains of an old Samaritaine department store. It’s a moment of splendid transcendence that makes the viewer suspect there’s more than a little of Carax in M. Oscar. It’s also a moment that leads to shattering horror and brings the film into a kind of weary retreat. I’ve described much, I know, but I haven’t scratched the surface of the film’s richness — and I’ve only hinted at what it’s about, or what it might be about. Is it a funeral march for the death of cinema? Is it Carax’s own thoughts on a future cinema? Is it about film in general — playing with genres and cross-references? Is it nothing more than Carax trying to blast a complacent sleeping audience back into conscious life? I think it’s all these things and probably more — and if you’re really interested in cinema, you need to see for yourself. Not Rated, but contains violence, some gore, adult themes and full-frontal male nudity (in its prominent state).
Starts Friday at Fine Arts Theatre
There’s even an accordionist
Are you vying with “Me” for most esoteric posting status?
I didn’t realise he was my main competition. Who’s ahead?
I’m claiming Florida for myself, but ME still has the west coast to come.
How long do you think it will stick around?
I wish I could answer that, but it’s all going to depend on how it does this weekend. I’m hopeful it does well, but it’s not an easy sell.
Depends on if that dready guy is selling shrooms outside the theater again.
If that’s the case, Samsara will still be playing.
It’s a moment of splendid transcendence that makes the viewer suspect there’s more than a little of Carax in M. Oscar.
Well, you’ve told us that they share a name, so I would suppose that we’re meant to at least partially equate the protagonist with the director. But in a movie that you suggest is about cinema itself in certain ways, and with all the different roles and performances going on it sounds like the name Oscar takes on another significance, no?
This might be one of those rare movies that I get out of bed early for so as not to have to wait until Monday.
Well, you’d be helping the opening weekend box office, which is always a Good Thing.
Well, that was certainly.. something. I’m rather surprised that this did so well with the critics – and I’m also surprised that no one walked out during my showing.
How many were at your showing?
I would say around fifteen or so.
Well, unless that was at 1 p.m., it’s not very encouraging.
And not very encouraging was true. It didn’t do badly really, but when you only have two screens, the choice can be difficult. So, in essence, you’ve got through Thursday to see this.
I’m going to try to catch it then.
I would advise it strongly.
The sound is a perfect segue because the story proper opens at a house that resembles an art deco steamship.
It also reminded me of the house in Mon Oncle. I keep looking for a sputtering fish fountain somewhere in the periphery.
I suspect this movie will be rolling around in my head all week.
Oh, and not one walkout among 30 or so participants. Though between a few audible sighs of frustration and the comments I overheard on my way out I suspect that I enjoyed this more than most.
I suspect the Mon Oncle reference is deliberate. There are a number of things that are — if not clearer,at least more connected now that I’ve seen The Lovers on the Bridge and Pola X.
I suspect this movie will be rolling around in my head all week.
I’d say that’s the best kind, but I’ve had Cosmopolis circulating my brain for a few days and it’s disconcerting.
I suspect that I enjoyed this more than most.
Well, that happens sometimes.
I suspect the Mon Oncle reference is deliberate. There are a number of things that are — if not clearer,at least more connected now that I’ve seen The Lovers on the Bridge and Pola X.
I’m sure there are many deliberate references- and probably a great many that went over my head- that’s just one that came back to mind as I re-read your review. Conversely, I might be imagining connections as well- did Carax mean to invoke Vertigo‘s bell-tower at the hollowed out department store? Are the protruding Samaritaine letters supposed to call to mind Hollywood Mountain? Heck if I know.
Maybe next time I make it out to an AFS screening I’ll have figured my intentions out far enough in advance to beg your copy of The Lovers on the Bridge off of you.
I’ve had Cosmopolis circulating my brain for a few days and it’s disconcerting.
What?! When do we get to see it?
Well, that happens sometimes.
But still not as often, it would seem, as people go crazy over something like Flight.
Conversely, I might be imagining connections as well- did Carax mean to invoke Vertigo’s bell-tower at the hollowed out department store? Are the protruding Samaritaine letters supposed to call to mind Hollywood Mountain? Heck if I know.
It’s only a guess, but I suspect it’s mostly in the film because it — like old cinema — is a passing landmark. Well, that and because it’s in the background of a lot of shots in The Lovers on the Bridge. And Carax’s former girlfriend and star of that film, Juliette Binoche, was originally meant to play Kylie Minogue’s role. (Apparently, Ms. Binoche isn’t on such swell terms with Carax as he thought.)
Maybe next time I make it out to an AFS screening I’ll have figured my intentions out far enough in advance to beg your copy of The Lovers on the Bridge off of you.
With pleasure, but I’m thinking about showing it, too.
What?! When do we get to see it?
Unfortunately, we don’t. But it comes out on DVD Jan. 1.
But still not as often, it would seem, as people go crazy over something like Flight.
Yes, well…
With pleasure, but I’m thinking about showing it, too.
Actually, I just so happened to run across it at TV Eye so I wound up purchasing my very own copy (along with Tokyo which I haven’t yet seen).
Unfortunately, we don’t. But it comes out on DVD Jan. 1.
Shucks, I was afraid of that.
Well, you can always borrow Pola X (which I like the least out of the lot, but which is not without its interest).
The theatre was packed for the showing I was at, the only real complaint was a woman down front kept giggling for no reason.
I thought the motion capture scene was mesmerizing and one of the best in the film. Apparently the film they are watching in the theater and that appears through out is King Vidors The Crowd.
Ken you should check out Carax’s Boy Meets Girl while your at it.
Apparently the film they are watching in the theater and that appears through out is King Vidors The Crowd.
How did you divine that? The only clips I saw were from some very early motion studies.
Ken you should check out Carax’s Boy Meets Girl while your at it.
Next time I order something I will.