Panico neither caters to newcomers to Argento’s work nor preaches to the converted.
Gaspar Noé discusses his use of split-screen, and what he thinks about death after grappling with it so directly across his work.
If the film-within-the-film is a vapid fetishization of women’s martyrdom, Lux Æterna is a willful exercise in repulsing its own audience.
Merciless but affecting, Vortex suggests that one respite from the loneliness of life lived in the shadow of death is the realm of dreams.
The camera captures every freak-out, recrimination, stolen kiss, and betrayal in what is a miracle of synchronicity.
Noé’s relative narrative economy allows for Climax to feel like only a disappointing missed opportunity.
The film savors its obviousness and cruelty as badges of honor, reducing itself to a technical polemic.
The enfant terrible discusses the making of Love, masturbation, and playing with spectators in three dimensions.
One’s proximity to the screen doesn’t alter the significance of Gaspar Noé’s film as the cine-equivalent of clickbait.
Entertainers focused on their own sense of self, such as performance artist Brother Theodore and filmmaker/actor Crispin Glover, are wonderfully loopy stunt interviews.
As the new video for “All of the Lights” begins, you might doubt for a moment that you’re watching a Hype Williams clip.
If Irréversible was Noé’s 2001: A Space Odyssey, Enter the Void is his Pink Floyd laser show.
You can’t doubt that Noé is a dazzling synthesizer of image and sound
Gaspar Noé positions Irréversible as a structuralist countdown, but a structuralist wank job is more like it.