Holy Motors

Holy Motors ★★★★

' The beauty of the act' transcends logic in Leos Carax's dive into absurdist drama. ' Holy Motors' is a frenzied journey through an outlandish environment. It's mischievous and inviting - pulling you into its strange world with splashes of fantastical anarchy, and a burst of neon hued reptilian seduction. Denis Lavant is mesmerising as Oscar, a slovenly looking fellow who is chauffeured around Paris by his enigmatic assistant, Celine, ( Edith Scob) while intermittently launching into a series of bizarre performances. Far more than just eccentric grandstanding, it's a film of hidden depths - in search of sincerity in an homogeneous world.
Partly anti modern cinema in its lamenting of the death of vintage cameras. Its unruly narrative developing into a rejection of formulaic stories where most cinema is hamstrung by a contrived design and originality has disappeared. ' Holy Motors' is art without boundaries : it does what it wants to do, when it feels like it, unchained from chronology or a conditional format.
Preoccupied with how the real and the imaginary have conflated to such an extent that there is little differentiation between the persona and the real person, witnessed in a Freudian moment of self annihilation. A loss of identity in a shape shifting contemporary landscape.
Escapism is temporary ; the ache of despair always close. Time is running out. Oscar seems to age twenty years in a couple of hours. A brief encounter looks like it's going to ascend into a vibrant musical before abruptly descending into a suicide. It says relish spontaneity because you might not get to ' laugh in the next life.'
Carax is an exhibitionist and 'Holy Motors' is great fun - obliterating the need for coherence with pure, giddy pleasure. At times the film's unbridled lunacy threatens to become mere freakish spectacle, but it's a mostly exhilarating and excitingly freewheeling adventure.

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