A father and his daughter struggle to survive in deep space where they live in isolation.
Let’s get this out of the way: Claire Denis’ latest addition to her eclectic cinematic oeuvre is decidedly not for jaded science-fiction audiences. Don’t expect “Interstellar”-level thrills; nor does the film provide a hallucinatory journey into the deepest recesses of our consciousness (and space) like “Solaris.” A relentlessly cold, bleak experience, achingly sad (and ass-achingly slow), it can be viewed as an allegory on the current state of humanity — all of us infertile, irradiated sinners, headed for the black hole. Call it “2001” with copious bodily fluids.
Robert Pattinson plays the sullen Monte, who, along with his baby girl Willow (Scarlett Lindsey), are seemingly the two last survivors on a small spaceship in deep space. We see him go about his business, taking care of Willow, wandering empty dank hallways, nurturing the haven that is the ship’s little emerald garden — and resetting the life support system every 24 hours. He then unplugs the other remaining passengers (!) from cryogenic sleep, fitting them into suits and silently dropping them overboard. Their lifeless bodies float down through vacuum, as the film’s title is revealed against the vast, black blanket of space. So far, so effective.
The set-up proves misleading, however, as the majority of the film takes place in flashbacks, inside claustrophobic cold rooms filled with death-row criminals. Under the guise of a scientific mission involving a black hole, they were sent into deep space to die. Juliette Binoche unleashes her crazed side as Dibs, a.k.a. “the shaman of sperm,” the ship’s doctor, who conducts fertility experiments on the barren convicts with the hopes of birthing a child. Ironically, the one man who’s proclaimed abstinence — Monte — ends up the one man impregnating the shrill Boyse (Mia Goth). There’s also Andre Benjamin’s character, somewhat uncomfortably (and derogatorily) named Tcherny (meaning “black” in Russian), who meets his abrupt end fusing with the garden, “Annihilation”-style.
There really isn’t much of a plot, not much can be said for the set designs: all spare, empty space(s) and frigid grey lighting. The special effects are used economically — which, yes, makes them more effective (as is the general rule of thumb), but also, in this particular case, makes one wish for more scenes set, you know, in the actual cosmos. There isn’t much in the way of awe-inspiring. There is a LOT in the way of brutal, however, the characters beating and raping each other, as well as literally combusting inside a spacesuit. There may not be as many dead bodies as in, say, “Sunshine,” but the clinical way Denis portrays those savage encounters — be it between a man and three women, or a woman and a black hole — will make you feel highly uncomfortable.
“High Life” is also high on its own dialogue, which verges on laughable/portentous quite frequently, the characters either proclaiming expository stuff or spelling out the film’s themes. The “unintentional laughter” factor leaks into the actual sequences as well, Denis’ artistic flair intermittently overcompensating for the abounding minimalism, such as in the scene where “the shaman of sperm” violently rides a Sybian saddle. When it works though, it does so brilliantly. The aforementioned woman vs. black hole encounter is phenomenal. The scenes between Monte and lil’ Willow anchor the film in poignancy. An encounter with another stranded ship, overrun by ravenous, cannibalistic dogs also resonates.
“High Life” says a thing or two about redemption (e.g. the character killed a friend over a dog and ends up almost saving one). It can arguably be interpreted as a statement on feminism, with all men portrayed as infertile, confined, savage beasts, while the matriarch of the ship squeezes the living juices out of them, and other women sacrifice themselves. That said, Denis is both too specific in her blunt dialogue and too abstract in her musings for the film to fully cohere. It keeps teasing us with glimpses of the full-blown mind-fuck it could have been. Perhaps we’ve come to expect more subtlety and clarity of vision from the legendary 73-year-old director. It may be more meandering than her previous efforts, but “High Life” clearly shows that Denis has no intentions of slowing down. Good for her, and for us.
Available on Blu-ray™ (plus Digital) and DVD July 9th
