Enter the Void (2009)

Thanks to his uncompromising and audacious sense of filmic brutality, I have always had a soft spot for French auteur Gaspar Noé. From Noé’s feature-length debut, I Stand Alone, to the internationally controversial Irreversible, I’ve watched and celebrated the challenging material of the filmmaker’s oeuvre, observing the strange union of visceral violence and breathtaking art that his work often breeds.  Needless to say, because of this profound respect, news of Noé’s latest film, Enter the Void, more than piqued my interest. Although the film was not yet in its final form when it debuted at the 2009 Cannes Film Festival, Enter the Void left an indelible mark on audiences and signaled a significant departure for Noé from the in-your-face ferocity of his previous work.
The film, which concerns an American drug-dealer in Japan’s ethereal life after death when he is fatally shot, is a kaleidoscopic fever dream that challenges the viewer to check what they know about conventional filmmaking at the door. Although cinematically Enter the Void is hugely ambitious, the plot of the film is relegated to this simple notion of post-death perception, choosing instead to let the sprawling visuals serve as the gateway to Noé’s vision.  With vague, in-film allusions to the Tibetan Book of the Dead, the film isn’t so much analogous of Eastern religion as it is Noé’s (an admitted atheist) take on how such material might affect one’s perception of passing. Unlike the surreal filmmaking of Alejandro Jodorowsky or David Lynch, who have both also tapped into the Eastern philosophy milieu, Noé strays less into the category of the abstract and instead seems fascinated on portraying the unwatched aspects of life. With intricate camera work (the film’s entirety is the first person P.O.V of the lead character), gorgeous lights and colors, and devastatingly breathtaking visual appeal, Noé makes life itself Enter the Void’s most appealing character.
The film is, admittedly, almost impossibly pretentious. However, such pretention is forgivable considering the sheer scope of ambition Noé has undertaken in delivering this work. Fans of the filmmaker’s trademark brutality won’t be disappointed, as there are also some scenes that are sure to make the more reserved in the crowd squirm, but overall, Enter the Void is more a piece about the journey of the mind, both its joys and its impossibly dark places.
It is interesting to note that the DVD/Blu-Ray release of Enter the Void differs slightly from the theatrical cut that played at film festivals over the last year. In a strangely reverse situation to most director’s cuts, Noé’s home-video release of the film actually clocks in 24 minutes shorter (though still a considerable 160 minutes) than its theatrical counterpart. The decision on Noé’s part to remove a particular scene (a dream-sequence in which the main character envisions himself returning to life) was made specifically to ensure the movie was a bit tighter, although seems an interesting footnote considering the already grandiose nature of the piece. Regardless of the version that is seen, however, it remains decidedly clear that Enter the Void will be a divisive film for fans of Noé’s previous works. Boldly epic in scope, those who expect more of the same from the filmmaker will be disappointed. For those who can remove themselves from their expectations long enough to consider this piece as a unique whole, Enter the Void will be a shattering cinematic journey. Whether you love it or hate it, Enter the Void is a daring step in a new direction for one of cinema’s most notorious outlaws. In short, with this film, Gaspar Noé does what he does best: He changes the way the game is played.