I have become a believer in mercurial films. Whether I love the film in question or I hate it, there is nothing better to spark conversation than a work of art that divides its audience. If something pleases the masses, then we all adore it and there is nothing left to be decided except just how great it is. However, when it breaks us into fractions, that’s when the great discussion happens.

With that in mind, HOLY MOTORS is likely to spark some great discussion.

Summing up the plot of HOLY MOTORS is a bit tricky…primarily because there isn’t really one. Denis Lavant plays Mr. Oscar. Oscar spends his entire day being chauffeured around in a stretch limousine going from appointment to appointment. When he arrives at these appointments, he steps into a role – and the roles couldn’t be more varied.

Sometimes he’s a motion capture performer…sometimes he’s a hitman…sometimes he’s a homeless woman begging for change. Why does he do what he does? I wish I could tell you.

As the film begins, his driver Celine tells him that he has nine appointments that day. When the ninth appointment is met, the film ends. No elaborating, no explaining. It is what it is and it does what it does. Once it’s done doing what it came to do, it packs up its things and heads home.

I came into HOLY MOTORS knowing precious little (a rare luxury these days). I knew that it was crazy, confounding, and divisive. Suffice it to say that now I know why. While I am a fan of the crazy and the odd in cinema and love pointing people towards it, I feel like HOLY MOTORS is only for the daring.

With that said, as the film went on, I found myself increasingly fascinated by the parts Oscar was playing and how they had so little to do with one another. On the surface, seeing a grown man embody an insane goblin, a dying relative, and a dutiful father all in one day seems disjointed. It makes it difficult to dig into the overall story and get to know anything about the man that inhabits all of these personas.

However disjointed that might seem though, doesn’t that sum up our lives to a tee?

As much as we all have a sense of self-identity, the fact is that we are many things to many people. We are loyal employees. We are demanding bosses. We are ardent fans. We are cynical critics. We are needy customers. We are trusted friends. We are screw-up children. We are passionate lovers. We are basket-case exes. We are dutiful spouses. We are caring parents.

Just by moving through our normal day, we put on and take off as many masks as Oscar employs in the runtime of this movie. So too do those around us, a point that the film underlines in an interesting scene where Oscar plays a relative in ill health. Now to be fair, most of the masks we wear don’t have us barreling through a cemetery and eating the floral arrangements…but my point is that even at the story’s most crazy, it’s still not that crazy.

Speaking of its craziness, what should an audience make of a film that drags it kicking and screaming through a scene after disjointed scene that have no connective tissue? Should they believe that the film has contempt for them? Or should they perhaps see it as though they’ve arrived at some soirée…and as they go from room to room, they are witness to scenes that grow curioser and curioser. Make no mistake; HOLY MOTORS is weird. However, the way its weirdness resets every ten minutes or so makes you want to grab another drink and keep exploring the mad tea party it presents.

One of the most interesting details of the way it moves from moment to moment is the fact that it struggles to do so gracefully. Going back to the party metaphor, it’s as if Oscar constantly regrets getting caught talking to someone at a party, and needs to find a graceful way to excuse himself (he never does). That too feels jarring to viewers, as if they aren’t being led through this world so much as they are being shoved from place to place. But that’s life, isn’t it? We want to get away from where we are and move on to something else, but can’t find a smooth way to do it.

What all of these elements add up to me is a movie that feels unique and memorable, if not necessarily enjoyable. Some of HOLY MOTORS’ scenes are uncomfortable; some are outright weird. Amusingly enough, just when it seems like all the weirdness has played itself out, the film gets in a few last licks. All of it is bound to stick with people long after the lights come up, but not much of it will spark a watch on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

HOLY MOTORS is hell-bent on splintering its audience. Some will drink up its oddities and disjointedness and celebrate it as a break from the vacuum-packed Hollywood offerings that dominate our movie theatres. Others will be repulsed by the way it eschews cohesiveness, and direction.

While I clearly believe one side more than the other, they are both right…and will have plenty to discuss and argue over.

Matineescore: ★ ★ ★ out of ★ ★ ★ ★
What did you think? Please leave comments with your thoughts and reactions on HOLY MOTORS.

21 Replies to “HOLY MOTORS”

  1. Nice analysis of the film. I agree with everything you say, but those are the reasons why I don’t like the film. This film is certainly open to many opinions and interpretations.

    1. I totally get that. There are divisive films I’ve watched over the last few years that I feel like digging in and fighting for (CLOUD ATLAS comes to mind), but I’d never do that for HOLY MOTORS.

      As much as I took away from it. I can completely see how it would turn people off.

  2. I think you have to watch HOLY MOTORS with some sort of expectation that there really is no narrative structure, it’s more of a cinematic experience. I think many people expecting traditional stories will be very disappointed.

    I kind of love the film, not that I can completely comprehend from scene to scene, but my eyes were glued to the screen while think what are they going to do next. It feels like a dream and dream doesn’t have to make sense. The fate of Monsieur Oscars (if that’s his real name) is kind of sad to me. Maybe it said something about performance art itself. The very last scene seems to a commentary on Pixar…

    Denis Lavant do deserves some kind of recognition, no?

    1. Well said. I think the fact that I came into it with the expectation that it was “batshit insane” actually helped me. When it made a certain degree of sense I was happily surprised.

      And thank-you: Your dream analogy is exactly what I was trying to articulate but got through 900 words and forgot to bring up.

      Back to writing class I go!

  3. I’m going to watch this film later this week. I’ve only seen parts of Lovers on the Bridge and the segment he contributed for Tokyo! w/ that flower-eating character. I’m eager to see what this film has to offer.

  4. Actually, Ryan, I don’t agree with your take on the film at all. To me this will always be a movie about why we watch movies, and it deeply probes at the awareness of suspension of disbelieve and how malleable that line can get in the face of good drama or good actors, or outlandish special effects. This is not how people behave, but how people behave ON SCREEN. It’s not wearing masks in different aspects of your life, but far more literally actors playing parts for an audience at the amuse-bouche level. It’s designed to be a compilation film on 100 years of surrealist cinema. Case in point is the casting Edith Scob as our chauffeur, an actress who played the girls without a face in EYES WITHOUT A FACE. The mask she puts on in the closing scene of the film directly represents this. Sure you could call it navel gazing, but the French do this better (in cinema) than anyone out there.

    1. Guess who’s never seen EYES WITHOUT A FACE?

      Your interpretation of the film is awesome Kurt, and that’s one of the things I love about this film is its non-linear approach to storytelling that allows different members of its audience to come away with different things. I think we’re both right here and that there are nine or ten other correct take-a-ways to be found if you ask around.

  5. I think it’s both a statement on identity but also a commentary about the art of performance and how the way we consume art is changing. Glad you got a chance to see it and that it made you feel and think such an array of emotions/things – i think whether you like it or not, it is a film that makes you feel and think. (Feel free to drop by my blog and read my “further thoughts” article, where I try to put my thoughts into coherent words of sorts I’d love your feedback).

    1. I have both of your HOLY MOTORS posts open in tabs right now, so expect a comment or two momentarily.

      It *is* very much a film that makes its audience feel and think – sometimes even very angry thoughts and feelings! I was quite smitten with the way its chapters allowed us to think and feel such varying thoughts and feelings. It would have been very easy to do “weird for the sake of weird”, but mixing that in with sadness, humour, and love makes for quite an experience.

      Thanks to you and Buckle for keeping this in the forefront of my brain – don’t know that I would have made quite the effort to see it if you hadn’t!

  6. I don’t think it’s possible to get an out-and-out “wrong” interpretation of this film which I’ve enjoyed reading critical analyses of the film as much as the film itself. It’s so abstruse ostensibly (while being so basic in form: a man has nine tasks, does them, the end) that half the fun is seeing how others respond to it.

    It’s so that even as I think the film is weird, I don’t find it outlandish. It’s a film to make you think, and ultimately – sometimes at least – that’s good thing.

  7. For my own part I couldn’t read out any particular meaning in this film that made sense to me. The claims that it’s some kind of compilation of film history make sense, though it was completely lost on me since I’m not a good enough cinephile to get the references that might have been there.

    There were scenes that sort of stunned me, like the crazy guy in the graveyard eating flowers and whatnot. But in the end I got an overdose of surrealism and incoherent craziness. Beautiful or not; if there’s nothing that connects to me at an emotional level, I grow bored. And that’s what happened in this case.

    I’m probably in a minority though. It seems very popular among film critics and bloggers.

    1. To be honest, I am not sure that it is a compilation of film history. Yest, it referenced some older movies here and there, but ultimately I don’t think it’s about that.

      The thing about Holy Motors is that there is a joy to it. It’s crazy but not depressing, I was never bored because Carax put so much creativity on screen. I was smiling and chuckling all the way through. I do feel something for Monsieur Oscar, especially near the end.

      I do think it’s a film that’s not for everyone, especially if you are looking for a story/plot. I walked it not expecting that, and that expectation help.

    2. I don’t think you’re in the minority at all. Matter of fact, six of us gathered to see this film last week, and I know three in the group completely hated it.

      Trust your judgement darling!

  8. A film I couldn’t help think about while watching HOLY MOTORS is Luis Buñuel’s THE PHANTOM OF LIBERTY.

    Both films are heavily vignette-based with little or no relation to the different scenes. They are also both quite weird (and French).

    I highly recommend checking out PHANTOM OF LIBERTY if you haven’t (and while you’re at it, see Buñuel’s OTHER weird French film THE DISCREET CHARM OF THE BOURGEOISE).

  9. Weirdest part of the movie for me: the intermission. What could be more out-of-left field than an impromptu rendition of R.L. Burnside’s “Let My Baby Ride” performed in a church by a motley crew of accordionists? Trois, douze, merde!

    One thing I’ve noticed among reviews is a joint interpretation of Holy Motors as a movie that celebrates movies. This is both correct and inaccurate at the same time; it’s about movies, sure, but mostly it’s about a very specific facet of movies– the craft of the actor– and it’s also much more about the death of an era in movies. This isn’t a movie like The Artist. This is more like a funeral dirge commemorating the passing of a time and place in cinema’s lifespan as the cameras get smaller, the audiences become more fractured, and the actor starts to forget who he’s performing for and even why.

    I would argue, honestly, that Oscar acts for himself as much as anything else. His trade– taking him from character to character one moment to the next– is obviously done in service to someone else, hence the conversation in the limo with the Man (studio suit I presume?), but I think it’s clear that Oscar at least somewhat acts for his own gratification and pleasure. (Which makes the film’s through-line about cinema’s death that much more mournful.)

    I don’t know. I loved this. It’s easily one of my favorite movies of the year, right up there with Cabin in the Woods, Moonrise Kingdom, and Looper. Weirdly, it’s also one of those movies that I’m attracted to because it makes me feel stupid. (Really.) Both times I’ve watched this film, I feel like I’m missing something, lacking some piece of information to break it wide open; that’s not to say I don’t “get” it (I do; it’s a movie about acting and the “death” of cinema, and arguably also about how technology directly facilitates our interactions with one another), but that I sense something lying beneath its surface that Carax wants us to pick up on.

    It makes me want to get to know Carax better, I’ll say that much.

    1. I’ve been humming that intermission ditty for weeks – thank-you for finally telling me what the hell it is!

      After your comment and Kurt’s, I can’t believe that I didn’t pick up on the idea of this being a movie about the movies. Perhaps I didn’t give that opening scene in the theatre enough credence.

      I like that you point out that feeling of being baffled. You have to wonder why we don’t enjoy that feeling more. I think of it as being in a foreign country and coming upon some sort of festival. You might not have the slightest clue what’s being said, or why everyone is celebrating, but you go with it anyway. Pity we don’t enjoy the feeling of bewilderment more than we currently do.

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