High Life

The experiences of humankind, the central feature of storytelling via cinema, is obscurely re-visited in Claire Denis’ High Life (2018). The film is a piece of speculative -science-fiction -horror, which alludes to Kubrickian imagery, referencing 2001: A Space Odyssey without the romanticism, and saturated mystique, of Kubrick.

High Life’s core themes of life, desire and death are magnified in the relationships forged between inhabitants of a spacecraft, who are former death row inmates. The inmates/explorers are offered an opportunity to emerge as ‘heroes’ in a futile space mission. The mission aims to harvest the energy of a distant black hole, for use on Earth to help combat our plethora of environmental crises. This mission provides as an alternative to death back home as a result of their earthly mistakes. 

High Life presents Robert Pattinson as the virtuous Monte and Juliet Binoche as sinister doctor type Dibs, both of whom feature as the film’s central dichotomy. The incarcerated collective are presented at their most vulnerable, where intimate relationships are violated. This is primarily a result of characters’ affected psychological states, which are magnified and transform into a tedious episode of dizzying psychosis, leaving the audience itching with discomfort. 

The film is a disturbing portrait of space travel, presenting an anti-nostalgic perspective of the opportunities that a deeper human interaction with the cosmos promises. Despite the film’s lack of narrative sensitivity, its ambiguity can be justified as the film appears to be focused on poetic glimpses and acutely composed scenarios and visuals. Emotion and authentic human experiences are prioritised over a clearly defined narrative line.

Despite the splintered storyline, the cinematographic prowess of Yorick Le Saux presents an often morbid, violent and grotesque, yet also spectacular, portrayal of the vessel, its inhabitants and the greater vacuum of space itself. Le Saux’s wealth of salient imagery features the expansive nature of the universe, the insidious sterility of medical instruments, and fragmented humanoid parts among its symbolic and dense imagery, successfully realising Denis’ serrated vision. Ultimately, High Life ambiguously presents a micro-portrait of the primal fears and tendencies of humanity, within the confines of a spacecraft in decay. 

review by Amy mentored by Anders Furze