Enter the Void

One thing's for sure, you won't leave Gaspar Noé's "Enter the Void" with comparisons ready. More than likely, you won't want to think about it at all. Over two and a quarter hours, the film hijacks your consciousness like a potent hallucinogen, and leaves you feeling burnt out and brain-fried on the other end.

Is it worth the trip? Yes, with an asterisk. After all, the opportunity to see something this flagrantly original comes but once in a blue moon, yet it isn't the sort of experience many will enjoy having. "Enter the Void" begins with a strobing title sequence that explodes into a first person account of drugs and death in Tokyo; it ought to come with a seizure warning. Compounding matters, almost every scene is designed to look like one continuous shot, with the camera being placed either behind our protagonist Oscar's head, or behind his eyelids. As if the pulsating neon lights weren't enough, we're also subjected to the split-second blackouts of Oscar blinking.

Visually, "Enter the Void" is unlike anything I've ever seen, but it sure ain't perfect. The problem, bluntly, is its amorphous, front-heavy structure. The first half plays out conventionally enough, beginning with what we assume is the end, and playing flashback catch up to contextualize the subsequent events. We arrive back in the present to neatly tie the knot, only to discover that Noé isn't remotely close to finished telling his story.

Where he takes "Enter the Void" in its ethereal second half is actually pretty fascinating, conceptually. However, it feels like an entirely different film. Noé floats aimlessly back and forth across Neo-Tokyo (to support the 'one shot' aesthetic, he rarely cuts directly from one location to another, often necessitating that the camera move through walls and entire buildings). The film really wears its premise thin during this overlong stint, though the last twenty minutes mostly redeem it.

The conclusion is a little predictable given that the characters seem to be arbitrarily engrossed by the Tibetan Book of the Dead, but it works because it boils "Enter the Void" down to its visual core. Somewhere along the way, the lines of the narrative are obliterated and Noé takes a hypnotically beautiful and bizarre psychosexual detour that bridges the gap to his ending nicely.

In retrospect, it's easy to remember the curious power of its final moments and marginalize the boredom that divides it from the first, much stronger hour. The film would almost certainly benefit from a second viewing, but I'm still not entirely sure that I would ever grant it one. I seriously question how Noé and his editor could stand to watch and assemble this film all day every day, because even their 137-minute finished product is a workout for the eyes. God help us if it were released in 3D.

But for better or worse, eyestrain is part of the experience, and "Enter the Void" is more an incomparable experience than a great film. It's a shame that the vast majority of its potential audience will never even have the opportunity to see it projected, as I can only imagine home video will diminish its psychedelic impact.

The best recommendation I can make is that if, like me, you go out of your way to see distinctly different films, you'll get your money's worth with "Enter the Void." Objectively, it's hard to deny the incredible creative scope and visual audacity on display, but it's also hard not to wish the whole thing were just a wee bit more succinct.

It ain't perfect, but "Enter the Void" is original, and there's no undervaluing that. Hell, I'll try anything once.

Gaspar Noe gets a free pass from film festival directors and apparently (judging from the IMDb sample reaction) ignorant film fans with his intentionally provocative works. I've seen this dreck before.

With ENTER THE VOID we have a typical case of a film (or video)-maker infatuated with some technique and then running it into the ground. The floating "omniscient" camera p-o-v is unleashed early in the film after the first-person hand-held camera gimmick wears thin, and the viewer must suffer through it for over two hours, when Noe is not cribbing from "the ultimate trip", Kubrick's 2001: A SPACE ODYSSEY for his tedious light shows.

As a film buff old enough to have sat through 2001 several times in all its Cinerama glory, I can vouch for its trippy theatrical impact back in 1968; current fans do not have this opportunity so we don't have a fair appreciation of this masterpiece based on mere video screenings. Even given this advantage, Noe conjures here an ordinary rendering of the "cult of ugliness", making each shot pastel-pretty but with determined ugly = beautiful inversions. I would prefer an Abel Ferrara visit to the drug-infested gutter with his intrinsically gritty approach to Noe's SFX hokum any day of the week.

The bland anti-hero Nathaniel Brown was poorly cast, a dull presence in those few shots when we actually see him, and his sidekick Cyril Roy is embarrassingly there just to deliver exposition. Even in the most rudimentary, improvised XXX porn, I can't recall having the film's premise "explained" to me the way Roy lays out in detail the reincarnation theme from the Tibetan Book of the Dead, and then, sure enough Brown goes through the out-of-body post-death claptrap as described. Paz de la Huerta is the recent indie flavor of the month girl (see: Jarmusch), but her lack of acting ability is evident, especially in her freakout scene here. In castng this eye candy role, anybody (read: any body) will do.

For porno content, Noe delivers considerable footage, none of which has the impact of real porn. Especially when compared to the work of Phil Prince, Joe Davian and other New York City pornographers of the '70s and early '80s, when s&m/b&d dominated (pun intended) porn features for a while, all fully documented on DVD reissues. Glamorizing then debunking the ecstasies/perils of the druggie life style is such an old hat concept in filmmaking that I'm surprised anyone gave Noe any credit for this rehash.

Parting shot: the infamous "penis entering vagina" shot in ENTER THE VOID is a corny ripoff of pornographer Luca Damiano, who has used this effect in numerous '90s porn videos, any one of which is more entertaining than VOID. Check out his EROTIC ADVENTURES OF RED RIDING HOOD for a prime example.

So what could I add to what has been stated in the other reviews? Yes, 'Enter the Void' is definitely a trippy mindbuster, and as such anyone who requires story or frames to enjoy a film should give it a miss. Yes, the visuals are eye-popping and the ubiquitous stroboscope effects may cause severe nausea - I watched it on BR and couldn't help but thinking what an advantage home entertainment can be over cinema exposure. This is a film which may be best enjoyed alone, somewhat stoned or drunk, and very late at night. And the pause button is definitely a life-saver.

I can sympathize with those who felt tormented by the epic runtime and disparity between the first and second half of the film: the former is sort of a 'last film' of the protagonist Victor retelling his life, and therefore makes sense plot-wise, the latter is a meandering flow representing his attachment to his sister. It is a bit unfair to discard the film for this reason, though, because the dialogue between Victor and his best friend Alex in the beginning hints at what the nature and culmination of this attachment will be. The interspersed aerial shots of an increasingly CG-rendered Tokyo may actually put this transition into question - this could all very well be part of Victor's 'death trip'.

What I really liked about 'Enter the Void' is the setting, for I have lived in Tokyo myself for three years. The area where the story takes place (judging from where the CG puts the Tokyo Tower) should be Roppongi, which is an expat and night club haven; while the CG makes the place appear a bit gaudy, it is indeed populated by a disproportionate number of drop-outs and sleazy bees, and I've always wondered why there's no film about Roppongi yet - contemporary Tokyo is mostly condensed to the Yakuza backdrop of Kabukichô or the juvenile epicenter of Shibuya. So on that note, I appreciate a film about the expat world, as weird and dysfunctional as it may be.

'Enter the Void' pushes the gates of what film can visually do visually wide open, and therefore shouldn't be dismissed by any cinephile. But your viewing conditions will be crucial to whether you will love this film or hate it.

In a nutshell, Gaspar Noe's often exasperating but always visionary Enter the Void follows a man on his journey from his last hours on earth, through his death and his journey into the afterlife. The first twenty minutes or so follows Oscar as he takes a hit of DMT (a very potent hallucinogen) and goes on a visually arresting, if slightly over-long trip. He then leaves his house to give his friend a stash of drugs he owes him only to be chased and shot by police when he gets there. From there, his death and afterlife mirrors the philosophies behind the Tibetan Book of the Dead which theorises (I'm sure I'm putting this very crudely) that one's soul floats around, watching the world without them until they figure out how to leave their old life behind and move on. To recommend this film to audiences is perhaps a wrong turn, as it is bound to strike most as indulgent, immoral, needlessly vulgar and uncomfortable (particularly in Oscar's tendency to watch his sister having sex whenever possible). However, with suitably forewarning, this is a film that any self-respecting cinephile should make a point of seeing, and especially on the big screen.

Noe proved with Irreversible that he was a technical genius and that his eye for original visuals knows no bounds. He also proved that he wasn't afraid to shock his audience and has quite the nasty streak running through his stories. In both visual content and shock factor, Irreversible was merely a precursor to his magnum opus Enter the Void. With an endless stream of nasty images and depressingly dead-eyed unpleasantness, it is difficult to feel anything for any of the characters, but none of this dampens the impact of Noe's probing, soaring, spectral camera as it floats in and out of lives and deaths. I don't know if it has ever been done before but the camera-as-spirit conceit is highly effective and one which puts a very interesting moral spin on the voyeurism of this film. Noe takes voyeurism to extreme, as Oscar's spirit jumps in and out of bodies in often very unusual and even shocking circumstances.

The trouble with Enter the Void is that it is difficult sometimes to know whether to laugh or be shocked. Some of the content is pretty outrageous and even quite silly. However, for every roll of the eyes, there is a gasp of astonishment in terms of the intensity of the cinematic experience. Having now seen this film twice (it premiered at JDIFF 2010 in February), I must say I was pleased to see some superfluous scenes towards the end cut out, giving the film a somewhat more streamlined effect.

Your tolerance for Noe's self-indulgence will most likely decide your level of enjoyment of this, a film I imagine will very much divide audiences, but it is at the very least a visual milestone that should be seen on as big a screen as possible (though somehow I can't see this one gracing Screen 1 in the Savoy anytime soon). A flawed piece, but one flooded with moments of genius.

Enter the Void is exactly the kind of polarizing film that cinema needs right now. Too many films these days play it safe, being concerned with keeping the audience comfortable, safe and happy. Enter Gaspar Noe, who clearly has no regard either for the well-being of either the audience or his actors. We have antagonistically long (but brilliant) takes, beginning in an apartment and ending in a bar, several blocks over. We are given characters and are exposed to their darkest moments, but are never given a real reason to care for them, or to perceive them as anything but wretched. We are also shown some sexually discomforting things that we never really wanted to see on the silver screen (if you've seen it you probably know what I'm talking about). Also, the film is almost completely in first-person viewpoint, so you're constantly feeling confined to what Oscar is looking at, which are mostly psychedelic images. In effect, the feel and tone of the story are immediately off-putting for the viewer, but since you've already bought a ticket, what can you do but follow it through?

This is definitely the kind of film that can be approached in the wrong way, both with the medium that you view it through, and with your state of mind. Enter the Void is meant to be a transportive film (i.e. you living directly in the viewpoint of another, and feeling how that person feels, and perhaps even thinking how that person thinks). To technically maximize the experience, the film should really be experienced on the big screen. I'd imagine an IMAX screen to be ideal.

I also think a film like Enter the Void really needs to be approached with a separate set of goals than that of a normal film. First of all, chuck any notions of entertainment, or even enjoyment, out the window. While you're at it, remove any notions of positivity that you can think of. The only reactions that Enter the Void will draw from you are negative ones. Personally, the only emotion I consistently felt was a slight nausea, tinted with the occasional horror, or perhaps a shameful arousal, as there is excessive sexual content that is all wretched in one way or another.

The film is shot with a certain frame of mind, and sticks to it with remarkable faith. It's in the point of view of a small group of friends who are confined to the drug and clubbing scenes in Tokyo. He then films them in the most abrasive ways possible, showering the viewer in infinite neon lights, and fish-eyed close-ups, and then Noe lets his frames linger on these unsightly images for uncomfortably long. Even with his tracking shots moving from one location to another, when the viewer is normally given a moments rest, he rapidly cuts across hallways, stairs, and streets, and never gives the viewer a free moment to settle down.

Despite the film's antagonistic feel, and despite the physical and psychological discomforts that the film drew from me, I still found Enter the Void to be a worthwhile and even inspirational experience. More to the point, Enter the Void may not be a friendly experience, but this exact kind of experimentation and determined expression are just what cinema needs in order to be taken seriously as an artistic medium, when so many other directors air on the side of caution and safety. It might be a difficult ride, but just watch it once and you'll carry it with you forever.