High Life
Five Greats from Five Years Ago: Part 4 of 5
We’re all on a ship hurtling through space. The most likely outcome for all of us is that we’ll die onboard. Claire Denis' High Life (2019) feels at times like it could be described by a line from Dr. Dibs (Juliette Binoche): “Totally devoted to reproduction.” This is a movie in which the cosmos is only a backdrop for a chilling exploration of human nature's darker corners. This is a sci-fi film that delves into the depths of isolation, desire, and the haunting question of what it means to be alive.
Aboard a claustrophobic spacecraft hurtling toward a black hole, a group of death-row inmates are offered a chance at redemption (or perhaps a more insidious form of punishment). They are to participate in a controversial experiment, led by the enigmatic Dr. Dibs, involving the harvesting of human sperm and the pursuit of procreation in space. Robert Pattinson leads the film with a haunting performance as Monte, a stoic and solitary man who becomes the unexpected caretaker of a newborn child, the lone result of Dibs' ethically dubious experiments.
High Life is the type of film that will leave you with more questions than answers. Denis's direction is intentionally and effectively unsettling. The spacecraft itself feels like a prison – cold, sterile, and teeming with tension. The film's pacing is slow, allowing dread and uncertainty to take root in your brain as you watch, and take hold it will: Consider this the Movie Night disclaimer: this film contains disturbing images of violence.
The film grapples with primal drives that govern human behavior, even (or perhaps especially) in the face of impending doom. It’s easy to watch the ways in which different actors deal with this and map it to the ways we’ve all felt at times. Tcherny (Andre 3000) gardens to feel close to home, Boyse (Mia Goth) melts down regularly while considering the inevitable, Dr. Dibs hits the sex box. (I joke, but I think you won’t have to imagine for long to find a corollary in the real world.) The relationship between Monte and his daughter, Willow, provides a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, a testament to the enduring humanity’s most fascinating and great strength for survival: working together. Their bond, forged in the most unusual circumstances, becomes a poignant exploration of parenthood, and sacrifice.
Visually, High Life is stunning. The vast emptiness of space is both awe-inspiring and terrifying, underscoring the characters' isolation and the futility of their mission. Scenes within the spacecraft are often bathed in harsh, clinical lighting, amplifying the feeling of confinement and unease. Only in Tcherny’s garden do we feel that someone put some empathy into designing a ship for these travelers. The film's score, with its dissonant tones and eerie soundscapes, is the icing on the unsettling atmosphere cake.
Denis' approach to storytelling, as always, is both cerebral and visceral: she’s a master of gripping cinema and is well-suited to Sci-Fi because she’s constantly ratcheting interest quickly between intellectual conundrum and shocking base human behavior. The film's ending, in particular, is open-ended, leaving viewers to grapple with the implications of the characters' fates and the broader questions raised about humanity's place in the universe. It’s a challenging but ultimately rewarding film for those seeking a sci-fi experience that goes beyond genre conventions. It's a meditation on the human condition, a stark exploration of our flaws and our capacity for both cruelty and tenderness. You’d think a few people on a ship hurtling into oblivion would be nicer to each other sometimes.
High Life
Written by Claire Denis, Jean-Pol Fargeau, and Geoff Cox; Directed by Claire Denis
2019
113 minutes
English
Recommended way to watch (at time of publication): Streaming on Max
You’ll like this if you like: Solaris (1972), Under the Skin (2013)