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When Leos Carax's film POLA X premiered in 1999, it was seen then as part of the New French Extremity movement, with critics and audiences picking up on its unsimulated sex scene. Yet that forms only a brief few minutes of quite ample film. Two decades on, audiences of today ought to look past the sensation and appreciate the film for what it really has to offer: a convincing contemporary take on Hermann Meville's psychological novel PIERRE, and the way Carax interweaves Melville's structure of 19th-century wealthy elites with harrowing references to contemporary France, Bosnia and the plight of Balkan refugees.

The son of a deceased diplomat of some note, Pierre (Guillaume Depardieu) lives in splendor in rural France, in a manor house with his widowed mother (Catherine Deneuve). Things are going well for young Pierre: a novel he has written has become a bestseller and he is engaged to the lovely Lucie (Delphine Chuillot). But then he encounters a mysterious woman named Isabelle (Yekaterina Golubeva) who tells him in broken French that she is his half-sister, born to Pierre's diplomat father and an unknown Balkan woman. Isabelle is in fact less a character and more a spectral presence that haunts Pierre's life. Intrigued by this otherworldly creature, Pierre gives up his privileged existence and enters into a vividly depicted bohemianism that brings about his physical and mental decline.

POLA X prefers to tell its story more through visceral images than dialogue. In fact, the dialogue is deliberately stilted, allowing the film to dip in and out of its basis in Melville's 19th-century novel. So much of the story of Pierre's decline is told through the bucolic idyll of the first half of the film and the brutal squalor he later chooses. This imagery is so strong that even if POLA X feels somewhat too tentative about itself to rank as one of the all-time greatest films, it has haunted this viewer's thoughts since watching it.

Another nice touch of POLA X is the close way in which Carax worked with the composer of the film's score Scott Walker, who was then fresh from his acclaimed album TILT. When Pierre leaves home after meeting Isabelle, he enters into a bizarre community of artists in an industrial setting, who seem to be hiding sinister plans behind their avant-garde work. It is here that Walker's score goes from the subdued strings of the first half of the film into brasher, more aggressive sounds. Carax has set things up so this music is both diegetic and non-diegetic, part of the outside narration of Pierre's psychological decline and contemporary political strife as much as the film's action itself.

I kept thinking watching Pola X, the first Leos Carax film I've seen yet, what it means for a film or any work of art to be "pretentious". The dictionary defines it as being or seeming to be "expressive of affected, unwarranted, or exaggerated importance, worth, or stature". Carax does indeed want his film to be important, and sometimes he does go to exaggerated lengths to get his results, of the 'artsy-fartsy' kind that one would only find in small art-houses in NYC (in fact, this was probably a film that screened for at least a month at the Angelika in Manhattan). But there's an intriguing conceit that Carax has with his material as it goes along: it's almost as if he's critiquing pretension, mocking it in subtle ways as he shows his disparate and desperate character heading towards an uber tragic end. It's a story that unfolds too thickly in hopelessness, where the characters don't seem to mind it as there is hope for two of them, at one point, that things will get better until they start getting horribly worse, sometimes in the abstract. Try as I might have at the half-way point to dismiss it as rambling pseudo-poetic French dreck, there's an appeal and watchable quality to it all, and I'd almost be inclined to call it a good effort...Almost.

The story is taken from a Herman Melville novel, though I'd wonder how much exactly was changed in the adaptation (incest, anyone?) Pierre (Depardieu, son of Gerard) is a novelist engaged to beautiful Lucie, and lives with his mother (Deneauve), but is torn away after finding one night in the woods that he has a long lost older sister who was raised elsewhere in Europe. He moves with her to Paris, and after getting rejected by a cousin (Lucas, disappearing for a long while in the film then returning in act three, or five, or whatever), go to live in a big warehouse type of loft where a weird avant-garde rock band practices and records songs. Meanwhile, a new crazy book is in the works, a child that was tagging along with another woman (I'd assume Isabelle's friend or caregiver or something) is killed randomly, and pretty quickly Pierre goes as insane and rambling as his book. Now, granted, a lot of this is presented matter-of-factly, but there is a mood that Carax creates that makes it "affected". There's a tint, for example, that sometimes makes characters look all blue- which works more or less in the revelation of who Isabelle is to Pierre in the woods- and scenes that aren't totally clear as to whether they are really real or imagined (Deneuve's fate on a bike is shot and executed almost as a parody of itself). And Depardieu himself is like a walking pit of uncertain angst. He plays him adequately enough, but there is the creeping sense, as with the film a lot of times, that there isn't quite as much dimension as one would hope, or at least would think the filmmaker would recognize.

Not that this is a total deterrent. I like when a filmmaker isn't afraid to plunge the viewer into unconventional duress and ambiguity, and for at least a few scenes Pola X does feel thriving with a sense of drama infused well by the exquisite but anxious camera-work (the child's death is one of these, as well as the climax that gains momentum in a style comparable to Strosek, minus the chicken). And the actual band in the movie itself seems to be Carax commenting on what he must realize is over-reaching in other sections; is it to be taken seriously, really, when we see the lead singer or whomever it is doing a weird body movement while the abdomen is covered in red? There's even a trippy dream scene with characters in a river of blood that treads that pretension line: you can sense the filmmaker behind it is so happy with how it came out as mad as it is, and it's actually quite an eye-full. Carax also pulls off one of the most explicit sex scenes in film history (full penetration, among other acts of foreplay), and this oddly enough does serve an emotional point- it feels eerie in the light, but strangely intimate.

All of this adds up to what then? Is Pola X worth watching? If you're familiar already with/admire Carax's work, it's a pretty safe bet as an act of semi-experimentation. For a first-timer to his work, like myself, it's a hit or miss experience, but one I wasn't too upset at having. At the least, one can say, Carax didn't go to the lengths of the man who directed a film Carax once starred in: Godard's King Lear. 6.5/10

Imagine the 2,500 seat Lumiere Theatre at Cannes dead silent. No one breathed as the incestuous sex scene began.

Understandably, half of the audience applauded as others booed the close of this film. The innovations in sound are remarkable, and locations stunning, but the crawling pace of a youthful cult leader's slow descent and eventual destruction of everyone near to him is arduous business. Thankfully it is broken up by strange twists of circumstance which justify those tortured looks from monolithic Deneuve and Depardeiu. It's just a bit of a shame that such traditional shock elements (an exploding head, a beautifully choreographed motorcycle accident) are precisely what the audience lives for to lift the weight of the rest of the picture. Carax's reply to the press between long drags on a cigarette, "What explicit imagery?" told me the rest of the story.

This movie starts off somewhat slowly and gets running towards the end. Not that that is bad, it was done to illustrate character trait degression of the main character. Consequently, if you are not into tragedies, this is not your movie. It is the thought provoking philosophy of this movie that makes it worthwhile. If you liked Dostoyevsky's 'Crime and Punishment," you will probably like this if only for the comparisons. The intriguing question that the movie prompts is, "What is it that makes a renowned writer completely disregard his publicly-aproved ideas for another set?" The new ideas are quite opposed to the status quo-if you are a conservative you will not like this movie.

Besides other philosophical questions, I must admit that the movie was quite aesthetically pleasing as well. The grassy hillsides and beautiful scenery helped me get past the slow start. Also, there was use of coloric symbolism in representing the mindstate of the main characters. If these sorts of things do not impress you, skip it. Overall I give this movie a 7.

I want very much to believe that the above quote (specifically, the English subtitle translation), which was actually written, not spoken, in a rejection letter a publisher sends to the protagonist, was meant to be self-referential in a tongue-in-cheek manner. But if so, director Leos Carax apparently neglected to inform the actors of the true nature of the film. They are all so dreadfully earnest in their portrayals that I have to conclude Carax actually takes himself seriously here, or else has so much disdain for everyone, especially the viewing audience, that he can't be bothered letting anyone in on the joke.

Some auteurs are able to get away with making oblique, bizarre films because they do so with élan and unique personal style (e.g., David Lynch and Alejandro Jodorowsky). Others use a subtler approach while still weaving surreal elements into the fabric of the story (e.g., Krzysztof Kieslowski, and David Cronenberg's later, less bizarre works). In Pola X, Carax throws a disjointed mess at the viewer and then dares him to find fault with it. Well, here it is: the pacing is erratic and choppy, in particular continuity is often dispensed with; superfluous characters abound (e.g., the Gypsy mother and child); most of the performances are overwrought; the lighting is often poor, particularly in the oft-discussed sex scene; unconnected scenes are thrust into the film for no discernible reason; and the list goes on.

Not to be completely negative, it should be noted that there were some uplifting exceptions. I liked the musical score, even the cacophonous industrial-techno music being played in the sprawling, abandoned complex to which the main characters retreat in the second half of the film (perhaps a reference to Andy Warhol's 'Factory' of the '60s?). Much of the photography of the countryside was beautiful, an obvious attempt at contrast with the grimy city settings. And, even well into middle-age, Cathering Deneuve shows that she still has 'it'. Her performance was also the only one among the major characters that didn't sink into bathos.

There was an earlier time when I would regard such films as "Pola X" more charitably. Experimentation is admirable, even when the experiment doesn't work. But Carax tries nothing new here; the film is a pastiche of elements borrowed from countless earlier films, and after several decades of movie-viewing and literally thousands of films later, I simply no longer have the patience for this kind of unoriginal, poorly crafted tripe. At this early moment in the 21st century, one is left asking: With the exception of Jean-Pierre Jeunet, are there *any* directors in France who know how to make a watchable movie anymore? Rating: 3/10.

When Melville's "Pierre; or The Ambiguities" hit bookstores in 1852, his first publication since "Moby Dick" a year earlier, the public response was similar to that found among the IMDB reviews of "POLA X". Newspapers even published headlines like: "Melville Insane!" which, of course, he wasn't. But, when one compares the writing styles found in "Moby Dick" and "Pierre," one finds in the latter a sharp departure from the simple and often declamatory style found in the former. Clearly, he was mimicking the overly florid style of the now-forgotten Victorian Romances that were easily outselling his immortal "Moby Dick." He was not content, however, to turn out the sort of product that his publishers wanted, and that surely would have sold. His version of a Victorian romance was a twisted, cynical one, perhaps, but brilliant in its synthesis. The alternate title: "The ambiguities" is quite appropriate. As Pierre searches for, and thinks he finds, truth, we become more and more uncertain what and whom to believe. As he searches for happiness, he becomes more and more miserable.

"POLA X" is a fascinating adaptation of this novel, set in modern or nearly modern France. Though, in some ways, it leaves little to the imagination, and shows us graphically the incestuous relations that Melville could only hint at, the ambiguities which make the novel and its message so alluring are perfectly in tact. The questions it raises are ones that few films have thought to ask, yet the answers are left to the viewer.

I recommend a reading of the novel, which is much shorter than "Moby Dick," before seeing this movie. I hope more people discover this tantalizing film.

Leos Carax has made 3 great movies: Boys Meet Girls, Mauvais Sang, Les Amants du Pont Neuf. In fact those films were not that great but it has the violence of youth, the beauty of juvenile wilderness. Carax in these three movies was well aware of what cinema was, but he tried to make his own vision of the art, without thinking about about all he have seen, but using it and melting it into his times. Pola X is a very different movie because Carax made Les Amants du Pont Neuf, a monstruosity of 20 millions dollars, a film that has destroyed everything on its way. After such a movie you can't do another one in the same point of view. So Leos Carax has to changed, and he did. The movie isn't as beautiful as its first, it's more reasonable, no more studio, no more dreamed Paris, Carax has entered at last reality. It's not clean anymore, it's not poetic characters. Carax have become a romantic in the german sense of it.

Based on Herman Melville's story. Director Carax, who can be mesmerising when he is good, makes this film unbelievably trashy. Stay away.

And surprise, surprise--for some unfathomable reason Carax deviates from Melville's ending where there are three suicides instead of one as chosen by Carax in the film.

Even then it is a disaster of a film--Catherine Deneuve's time on the screen is the only saving grace.

I watched Pola X because Scott Walker composed the film score and I admire his music a lot. Frankly, I expected a somewhat pretentious and possibly incoherent French movie. I was wrong. The vision of the film quickly managed to engage my attention to the fullest - starting with the opening sequence, which shows black and white footage of military airplanes throwing bombs at graves at the sounds of music and Scott Walker's beautiful wailing voice. The film explores the identity crisis of Pierre (Guillaume Depardieu - a brilliant choice for the role) and his consequential (self-)destruction. The story is divided into two parts – the first depicts Pierre's carefree life in a beautiful house in the French countryside and the second follows his utter personal disintegration after he abandons everything and moves to Paris to live in squalor with his supposed half-sister. Both parts contain some amazingly stunning photography – the first very colorful and bright, the second utterly gloomy and nearly apocalyptic - adding up to a true aesthetic feast. Pola X is a fascinating and quite unique movie experience.

Quite a bizarre film here, especially in regards to asking yourself how it should make you feel, or what makes it good or bad. Previously the only Leos Carax movie I'd seen was Holy Motors, which receives an immense amount of praise internationally, yet I was unable to find much about it to like. I decided to watch this for 2 reasons: 1. Because it was one of 3 films that one of my favorite musicians (Scott Walker) did the score for (the other two being Childhood of a Leader, and Vox Lux) - they showed a clip from the production in 30th Century Man, the Scott Walker documentary, and it looked nuts. 2. Because it has Catherine Deneuve in it.

To summarize, like many French/Italian movies I've seen, there is a not-so-subtle air of incest throughout the film, and that seems to be why it's referred to as "erotic", because the only sexual encounters that occur are between siblings. Lead actor Guillaume Depardieu (the IRL rebel son of infamous actor Gerard, who died of pneumonia at age 37 in 2008) plays a writer who seems to have more sexual tension with his older sister (Catherine Deneuve, the legend) than he does with his girlfriend. But wait, that's just the precursor.

Enter Yekaterina Golubeva (who's face reminds me of a bit of Anna Falchi, one of the most striking actresses of all time, especially in Cemetery Man), playing a disheveled girl who he keeps seeing in his dreams, then suddenly he's seeing her in real life. She claims to be his long lost sister, and without even questioning it, they end up having a lot of intense sex. When we get to talking to her, her character's name is ISABELLE and she bears a striking resemblance in both looks and vibes to Isabelle Adjani's alternative persona character, Helen, from Possession, yet she retains a heavy dose of Adjani's manic hysteria from her primary "Anna" in her performance as well. I can't help but feel like this is in direct homage to the Zulawski classic (my favorite film of all time), especially because, by the end of this film, the entire thing really feels like it wants to capture the otherworldly surrealism that Zulawski was such a master of, but, sadly it always falls short.

Other than the immensely good looking cast, there are only a couple sequences that I feel will really stick with me. The very brief "raging river of blood" dream sequence is pretty mind-blowing, and thus iconic - I still wonder how they shot that, but it's literally less than a minute long and serves no true purpose in relation to the rest of the film. I cracked up every time the giant experimental noise band was performing and being conducted by the "cult leader" in the warehouse - but that's only because I'm such a big Scott Walker fan and it feels as if it's all coming directly from his bizarro brain. There were also a couple moments of surprisingly effective violence that were unexpected and a bit of a surprise. But those things aside, the film mostly floats on an ineffective path somewhere between realism and surrealism, never making enough sense to allow emotive response, but never poetic or symbolic enough to allow itself to evolve into a fully realized art film. I doubt I'd ever watch it again, but I'm glad I did this once.

I wonder if there's a Leos Carax film out that I actually will connect with...

You would probably get something like this. I'm translating movies for a living and this is the first movie in my 5-year working experience that I found offensive to my intelligence. Of course, there are stupid Hollywood movies about drunken teenagers on a spring break, but those movies don't even claim to be serious works of art. But when someone strives for greatness and poetry, but delivers a muddled (and often ridiculous) story, a bunch of disparate scenes, pretentious dialogue... Then you get the worst kind of a movie that some other reviewer very accurately defined as "pretentious crap". To those who find this movie intelligent or even masterful, I can only say - it's your intelligence and your imagination you obviously used to try and make some sense of this pitiful attempt (it's in our human nature to try and make sense of things) .

One more thing: I can tolerate political incorrectness very well, I'm all for artistic freedom and suspension of disbelief, but the Slavic female character was just too much. I wish someone told the director that it's kind of ridiculous (even in an unrealistic art movie) to portray a Slavic woman as a half-articulate dishevelled creature connected to the forces of nature, probably due to the fact that she had spent her entire childhood looking at the stars and milking cows on a three-legged stool.

What to say? The film is overdone, for sure, but I can't agree with criticism of the lack of naturalism in the film. It's melodramatic, yes, it's over-the-top, yes, it's self-important, yes, but for all that, I think it ends up telling a story with interest and passion that would be very difficult to tell except in this way. It's a story about a certain, highly Romantic worldview that, yes, is basically horseshit, but at least Carax is honest with his audience about where that kind of self-aggrandizement leads.

What almost saves the film from total pretentiousness is the fact that Pierre must lie in the bed he has made for himself. If one demands so much "truth" out of life, if one rejects anything with the slightest tinge of falsehood about it, then that is yet another ridiculous attitude. And by that I mean, yes, in the end Pierre is ridiculous, but maybe that's Carax's point?

Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe he does end up as a Romantic hero in the end. And maybe it's not so original for that reason.

I agree with "johnlewis", who said that there is a lot going on between the lines in this film. While I do think the pacing of this film could be improved, I do think that the complexity of the relationships between the characters is fascinating.

Examples :

Pierre is going to marry his cousin, even though his love for her seems very cousin-y ?

Pierre and his stepmother have a rather...curious relationship.

Pierre, Lucie, and Thibault seem to have a triangular relationship, and the actual points to the triangle are not quite certain...

Lucie's brother is a bit of a eunuch, or is he ?

And Isabelle, who is she really ??

Overall, I think it was worth my time. An interesting film, and one that makes me want to read Melville.

If the first part of the film was more or less interesting, then the rest, after meeting a girl from dreams, one solid "grafomania" (pathetic demagogy), text for the sake of text, that would show off the difficulty from scratch.

It's difficult to express how bad this movie is. Even in the 1950s when intellectual searching for the meaning of life was fashionable and beatnik rejection of physical comforts, clean clothes, haircuts, etc. was a common reaction to the smug middle-class mores of both the USA and western Europe, this movie would have been a stinker. The plot is a mishmash of several dei ex machina (if that's the correct Latin grammar); the acting consists of deadpan stares broken by occasional hysterics (by the male lead as well as the females); the gratuitous view of Catherine Deneuve's (or somebody's) breasts are worthy of a Budweiser commercial; the repeated cacaphonous orchestra rehearsal in the abandoned building is I'm sure heavy with meaning in the director's mind but to me is just one more stupid symbol thrown into this meaningless movie -- I'm ranting because my time has been wasted watching this scam excuse for an art flic. The scenery is beautiful and the sex scene is hot -- but underneath his clothes, this king has no substance.

Pola X is a beautiful adaption of Herman Melville's 'Pierre; or, the Ambiguities'. The comments on here surprise me, it makes me wonder what has led to the overwhelmingly negative reaction.

The shock value is the least appealing thing about this film - a minor detail that has been blown out of proportion. The story is of Pierre's downfall - and the subsequent destruction of those around him - which is overtly demonstrated in his features, demeanour and idiolect. The dialogue and soundtrack set this film apart from any other I have seen, and turn a fundamentally traditional storyline with controversial twists into an unforgettably emotional epic.

I can't stress enough the importance of disregarding everything you have heard about this film and watching, as I did, with an open mind. You will, I hope, be rewarded in the same way that I was. I felt on edge and nervous from around the half-hour mark, however the film is far from scary in any traditional sense. It will leave you with 1,000 thoughts, each of them at once troublesome and thrilling. I know I'm gushing here, but I feel the need to make up for the negative perception of this film. It's the best I've seen all year.

Weirdness... they took a one hour story, and made a two hour film out of it. the old joke goes .. they picked up everything off the cutting room floor and put it back into the movie. Guillaume Depardieu ( son of Gerard!) stars as Pierre, who leaves his family to come to the rescue (out of guilt ?) of his maybe half sister Isabelle (Yekaterina Golubeva). he gives up a fine, leisurely life of wealth to go live with Isabelle, and it gets very nouvelle artsy. Cue the strange musicians in a derelict, cement structure, where everyone seems to be homeless and in bad health (?). Blood, guts, murder, maybe even insanity ? Sadly, Guillaume D. would die quite young at 37. some explicit sex, so not for the young ones to watch. the story is solid, but it moves pretty slowly. A slow decent into jealousy and madness. Directed by Leos Carax. The original story seems to be based on a Herman Melville story. Who knew?? Pretty good, if you have the patience for a two hour plus film. there are some special features included on the DVD available in the USA. Depardieu would make films for another nine years.

French Cinema sucks! Down with all these psychiotric visions with their my-God-am-I-cultivated distinguished attitudes! Pestilence to conceited symbolic film-language and impervious chiffres! I'll no longer have a mind for that! Léos Carax, did you ever think about, that a dialogue in a film could be natural and vivid??? Maybe I'm too common to understand you? Or had it been your task to confirm all the clichés of a Frenchman the world can have? Guillaume the to-be-guilliotined comes to his home-palace, Mme. Deneuve, not in the picture, plays the flute: "Here am I, darling!" In this moment, I knew, that she's in the bathtub, and we`ll see her lying in there soon. Don't misunderstand me, I'm not prudish, and the incestous sex scene was the climax of the film. But this is, in Berlin, we say "etepetete", what means something like "être-peut-être", a snobistic, self-satisfied, and, the worst, seen that often in French movies I can tell! Other example: She, beautiful and willing, is looking at herself in a mirror, combing her hair, and her wild-bearded, dirty young guru rushs into the room, breathless shouting: "There's no escape, there's no escape!" Forty years after existencialistic Sartres and consorts- what's new, what's exciting about? My God, there's that woman and she loves and admires you, what would be more natural to be happy with your life? And when you're not, please explain much better, why!! Born French means you have to live a life in extravaganza, no escape, is that the point?

The movie contains a very short scene of Deneuve in a bathtub. She looks absolutely stunning for a lady age 56, but this is the only saving grace of the movie. Otherwise, it has a mindless, unmotivated script and the lead actress has none of Deneuve's appeal. The director apparently watched too many Peter Greenaway films and Pola X comes across as a student's imitation of the Greenaway style, without any of his inspiration.