For a moment I thought,
When we came together
That anything, everything
Was finally possible;
Love as a greater unity,
Combining our limbs
Lips mouths cunt cock
Nothing to divide us,
No barriers to separate;
We shared a vision,
Tasted the pleasures
Of the long anticipated,
Much deferred paradise.
96
But the moment passed,
Our bodies disentangled.
Even the shortest distance
Can lead to disenchantment;
Ultimately we fuck alone.
After such knowledge,
After being tantalized
With the promise of grace
Makes this world a hell
And other people,
Persecuting demons.
No, we can’t all just get along,
I will repay your hate
With pinpricks of fear,
Maybe then we can finally
Share the horror inherent
In everything, anything,
Even a wilted dandelion clock.
Near the beginning of Gaspar Noé’s dance-horror movie Climax, we are introduced to the dancers via their audition interviews, which are played on a TV surrounded by VHS titles (it is set in 1996), which include such gonzo avant-garde/horror films as Suspiria, Possession, Salo, Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome and Un Chien Andalou, further signalling (just in case you missed the bloodied body crawling through the snow at the start, and that it is a Noé movie) that what is to follow is going to be a full frontal assault on the senses. Whether you love it or hate it, Climax certainly succeeds as an overwhelming experience.
But before we go down to Hell, we get a glimpse of Heaven in the extraordinary dance scene. Shot in one very long take, the young and diverse dancers, in their final rehearsal before leaving France to tour America, produce a thing of beauty as they krump, vogue, freestyle and strut their awe-inspiring stuff. The exuberance, energy and sense of collective euphoria on display is truly joyous to watch. Naturally the beautiful people want to party after such a success. Simmering with polymorphous sexual tension, a note of discord is introduced in the bitchy and potentially amorous conversations. Following another stunning series of set pieces by individual dancers, filmed from above, and around the time Thomas Bangalter’s Sangria kicks in, the dance crew begin to realise that the sangria which they have been drinking (most of them anyway) has in fact been spiked with LSD, the mood accordingly darkens and the party degenerates rapidly.
What follows is the mother of all bummer trips, an epic Grand Guignol freak out that is almost unbearably intense as the dancers descend into a netherworld of paranoia, violence, debauched sexual excess and over-saturated primary colours, perfectly captured in the nausea inducing camera angles.
Full credit to the cast, who with the exception Sofia Boutella are dancers not actors, and the spectacular choreography of Nina McNelly. The pulsating soundtrack charts the journey from sublime ecstasy to raging madness wonderfully, below are two tracks that feature when the vibes start to get heavy.
While I was enjoying my usual 3AM snack of Pot Noodle (heavy on the Tabasco) and a wee glass or three of Absinthe (absolutely with the sugar-cube) before retiring, I did a little more research on Gaspar Noé new movie, Climax, the subject of my last post, and as well as discovering the reason why he decided to set the movie in 1996, (because 96 is the opposite of 69 and is therefore the year of collective impossibility, whereas 69 was the year of, yes you guessed correctly, coming together), I was delighted to find the complete playlist of the soundtrack, and oh boy, it is definitely killer.
This is to be expected, however, as whatever faults Noé possesses, his soundtracks have always shown impeccable taste. The opening credit sequence of Enter The Void combines elements of the soundtrack of Noé’s 2002 movie Irréversible, composed by regular collaborator Thomas Bangalter of Daft Punk, with LFO’s Freak to produce a dazzling marriage of sound and flashing graphics that was immediately imitated in the music video field.
The stand out track of the above-mentioned soundtrack from Irréversible is Rectum, which takes its title from the hellish nightclub featured in the movie. Rectum is an aural distillation of pure dread; nervy, queasy and ever building, a perfect realisation of the demented Boschian world portrayed.
As Climax is a dance movie set in 1996, electronic, house, techno and industrial music from the 80’s and 90’s naturally features heavily, including songs by Gary Numan, Aphex Twin, Daft Punk and Giorgio Moroder as well as the Rolling Stones. I have included below two tracks, Lil Louis’s seminal Chicago House track French Kiss, which includes some of the heaviest and sexiest deep breathing on record since Serge Gainsborough’s Je t’aime, and Soft Cell’s combined cover of two Northern Soul classics Tainted Love and Where Did Our Love Go.
Please note that the clip for Enter the Void contains flashing images and I hope you enjoy, though probably best to avoid if you have been drinking Sangria.
Regular readers may have noticed that I tend to be somewhat fixated on the art, literature and film of the past, rarely does anything post-1980 featured on these pages, and certainly not movies that I haven’t even seen yet. However, as the premise of Gaspar Noé‘s new movie, Climax, which recently premiered in Cannes, actually made me pause during my favourite early afternoon breakfast of Black Forest Gateau and original Irn-Bru, I decided to make an exception this one time.
Billed as a dance-horror movie (who knew there was such a thing?), Climax, which is apparently based on true events, tells the story of a young street dance troupe’s descent into collective madness after drinking the LSD-laced Sangria during the final rehearsal party, all filmed in Noé’s seizure inducing visual style and with his trademark horror-porno aesthetic. Described as The Red Shoes on literal acid, Step Up meets Salo and a Satanic DJ set, any minuscule reservations I had about leaving Chateau Du Cake to see this in the movie theatres when released are dispelled by the trailer, featured below.