Holiday – Isabella Eklöf

The screening I attended for Danish director Isabella Eklöf’s debut was preceded by two trigger warnings. One from the festival and one from the filmmaker herself. We were informed of the intense sexual violence that was to come. I have since read articles about the scene in question and have seen comparisons to Gaspar Noé’s Irreversible. Holiday certainly features an intense rape scene, but this is not exactly the #metoo movie that I was expecting it to be.

Sascha (Victoria Carmen Sonne) arrives to a beautiful coastal city on the Turkish Riviera. She is picked up by a well dressed acquaintance and driven to her boyfriend’s villa in the hills. On the way she explains that she spent a small amount of money that she had smuggled across the border, (Just 300 Euros out the total 50,000) because her card was declined when trying to purchase a new swimsuit. The driver pulls his car over and carefully explains that this is not okay before slapping her a couple times across the face. This girl has gotten herself into quite a bit of trouble.

Her boyfriend, Michael (Lai Yde) is a mid level druglord who lives in a beautiful villa with an all-Danish family of thugs, blonde women and a couple minors. Once Sascha arrives, it is nothing but smiles as Michael rewards her for a job well done with a trip to a jeweler. They make love, do a bunch of drugs and hit the clubs every night. As Sascha starts to strike up an acquaintance with a handsome Dutch vacationer, Michael’s dark side starts to come out.

Think you’ve seen this one before? You probably haven’t. Eklöf shows a confident, subtle touch as she navigates this touchy subject matter. This is NOT another insipid rape-revenge plot. This isn’t a angry-boyfriend-goes-psycho movie. Holiday is another beast altogether and full of surprises as the plot unfolds. Sonne’s performance as a vapid blonde on vacay is superb, as she makes one bad decision after the next and never seems to learn from them. Could she really be this thoughtless?

Not nearly as vulgar or extreme as we were initially led to believe. I think comparing this film to Irreversible does both Eklöf and Noé a disservice. This is a smart, calculated debut that touches on MUCH MORE than just sexual violence. A delicate, nuanced film that deserves more than the lazy “shock” label that has been forced on it.

Diamantino – Gabriel Abrantes & Daniel Schmidt

Another debut that opened with a different kind of advisory. We are informed that the film we are about to see is a work of fiction and any resemblance to people, places, products or giant puppies is coincidental. The joke is quickly followed through on as our hero Diamantino (a sort of knock-of Christiano Ronaldo) is playing in the World Cup for Portugal and as he takes the ball and begins to go on a run, we learn the secret to his success. The field, players, crowd all disappear and are replaced with an empty black space, pink smoke and a gang of giant puppies. The superstar proceeds to dribble around these furry creatures and nails a game winning goal.

I don’t have space to explain every plot point, here, nor do I think it would help, as a large part of Diamantino’s charm is trying to keep track of the stream-of-consciousness style plotting. I will say that what follows is a political satire that rips into everything and everyone. MAGA, Brexit, state surveillance, stardom and genetic modification. Just handful of subjects the first time directors choose to chew up and spit out. I’m reminded of some of the more successful seasons of South Park, when the satire was particularly biting and the comedy was just the right amount of absurd.

Carloto Cotta is fantastic as the title character. With the mental capacity and innocence of a 7 year old and an ego only the top footballers in the world could contain, he is completely at will of the forces around him. You can’t help but root for this soft-hearted idiot who falls from super-stardom to meme infamy and rises again to save the nation. A terrifically original film. I will have my eyes out for what this directorial team does next.

Climax – Gaspar Noé

A woman covered in blood walks through the snow and collapses on the ground. Gyrating and screaming, she carves out a bloody snow angel. In typical Noé fashion, the credits roll over a warbling synth version of a piece by Satie. A few title cards with some classic Noéisms and then a series of interviews with a group of young french dancers. They are asked questions about dance, sex, drugs, heaven and hell. These interview clips play out on a CRT tv screen sandwiched by books on the left side (Kafka, Nietzsche, Wilde) and DVDs on the right (Salo, Suspiria, Harakiri). This prelude presents you with all the information you need to prepare for what follows.
The dancers perform an ecstatic group dance, full of energy, power and sexuality. This is the first of many delicately choreographed one shots, though film goers familiar with Noé’s work can assume that some of these sequences are likely stitched together. The group has reached the end of a long three day rehearsal process and we join them as they are ready to kick back and party before their tour begins. They stand in pairs talking (mostly about sex) and drinking sangria. The soundtrack pumps bass throughout as the cast dances around the neon-lit, former boarding school.
Eventually it becomes apparent that someone has spiked the sangria with LSD and almost everyone in the group starts feeling the effects. A dizzying overhead shot of a group dance off grows in intensity and once they realize something is wrong, it is much, much too late. Panic and anxiety take over as the dancers lose control and the party descends into a harrowing painting of Hell-on-Earth reminiscent of a Hieronymus Bosch painting.
Despite the drugs, Climax is Gaspar Noé’s most enjoyable and coherent film. The camera floats around the claustrophobic setting and keeps track of the range of reactions the dancers have to being drugged. A sober male is tossed out into the cold snowy night, a pregnant woman is driven to madness and a child is locked in a dangerous maintenance closet. Women writhe around on the floor, foaming at the mouth under Noé’s signature strobe lights. Watching Climax is an absolute experience. Perhaps the first musical-horror film that isn’t played for laughs, though a climactic title card reading “Life is a collective impossibility” could be seen as a very Noé-style punchline.
This is certainly Gaspar Noé’s best film. He seems less interested to provoke and is now having a bit of fun, but something tells me this film may be a bit of an anomaly and the positive critical reception may drive the provocateur to create something less palatable in the future.
A kaleidoscopic, LSD-fueled nightmare that depends on the collaboration of some very courageous performers and a technically flawless production crew. With luck, Climax is an indication of what we can expect from Noé as he ages.