Noe Means No

Is Gaspar Noe's Irreversible the point of no return for extreme cinema? This may well be your conclusion after watching 95 minutes or so of Gallic nihilism in which we see a man's head repeatedly bludgeoned with a fire extinguisher in full rotten.com detail and an extended, excrutiatingly harrowing sequence where the luminous Monica Bellucci is sodomised, dehumanised and defaced in a nine-minute subway rape.

The latter scene may well be one of the most traumatising and least titillating depictions of the act on screen to date, but very many people will find its verisimilitude completely unwatchable. How much further can cinema go before people decide snuff's enough?

Irreversible is not without its artistic merit and some may find gritty entertainment in its Bangalter soundtrack, swirling vertiginous camarawork and edgy acting. And yet despite its laughable late attempts at biblical pretensions, the film is essentially Death Wish-meets-Memento, a plot as empty and pointless as its' anti-heroes' thirst for revenge.

While viewers may occasionally be impressed by the film-makers verve, many will feel they needed the experience like a rapist's prick up their backside. Cinema's latest trip into the heart of darkness is a cold and ultimately unrewarding one, and you may feel like asking for your 95 minutes back.