Titane

Julia Ducornau's debut feature Raw was an incredible coming-of-age flick whose uneasy stills and crazed undertones bordered just on the edge of explosive French extremity while never quite crossing the line into the unhinged madness of some of its colleagues. This is not the case for Titane. From the very beginning, it's clear that Ducornau isn't pulling any punches. Just like Raw, we begin with a devastating car crash punctuated by stark silence, but this time there's none of the creeping dread or steady uneasiness of that film. Nothing is left to the imagination, we go straight from the car crash to the brutal restructuring of Alexia's skull before we're 2 minutes in. And Titane is able to keep up the momentum. While some disturbing moments can feel shoehorned in or unearned, almost all of the traumatizing content this film has to offer fits neatly into its cleverly executed story. And that's saying something, because this film is traumatizing the whole way through. It is not for the faint of heart, and the MPA's strong warnings under the R rating cannot begin to describe how difficult of a watch this is. And, to the point, maybe it should be. None of the hard conversations Titane starts about gender roles, the nature of gender fluidity, or interpersonal relationships are things that should be talked about lightly. The emotions felt by our main characters are brutal, gut-wrenching feelings that present themselves on screen as literal rather than figurative destroyers. And the overarching theme of organic vs. artificial is a messy, gross statement to wrap up the whole film in a twisted bow. Titane is one of a kind, and stands out as being more extreme but also even better than its predecessor in Raw. It uses its increased range, budget, and more generous R rating to push the boundaries of what is acceptable on film and what the audience can understand. It isn't for everyone, and I might even feel differently after a few more viewings, but at this time Titane is the picture of the year for me.