Knife + Heart (2019)

Being a bit of a francophile, a film only has to be set in France for me immediately to be pumped for it. Ridiculous, of course. But Yann Gonzalez' sumptuous and brilliant second full length feature forgives any such fool hardy preconceptions. Set in 1979 Paris, filmmaker Anne is a producer of third rate gay porn. Her editor and lover Lois leaves her early in the film, and she decides to undertake her most ambitious project yet in an attempt to win her back. As the production begins however, one of her cast is brutally murdered. Consequently, Anne decides to press on with her project, and even when another of her actors is murdered (by the same masked individual) she continues, and begins to combine the atrocities engulfing the production into the project itself. There's so many genres at play here that it could lead to disaster; instead Knife + Heart encapsulates everything that's excellent about the genres it's dealing in. I've said before that when dealing specifically with sexual nature as the crux of a film, it's difficult to keep it interesting and relevant. As much as I love and respect Gaspar Noe for example, his experimental film Love 3D (2015) had the right intentions, but was fairly dull. The best example I can remember of sex and fetishism on film in recent years is still Peter Strickland's The Duke Of Burgundy (2014). Until now, anyway. The sex scenes Anne films throughout are intoxicating, with the backdrop of a wonderful score by M83 (Gonzalez' brother incidentally) and there's plenty of deliberate humour within them as well. Part thriller, part horror, part comedy, you name it, the film reaches far and wide for its influences. The cast are wonderful, and I've heard some say the film dips off in its final quarter when it threatens to introduce a supernatural element (or does it) but I couldn't disagree more. It's a more playful film than something like Friedkin's Cruising (1980) but there's also a more chilling undertone than you might initially realise. The neon chrome lighting gives Knife + Heart a threatening sheen that works wonders as a genre mixer, and the cinematography is transfixing. It's so apt then, that Knife + Heart is about so many things, but deep down and stripped back, it's about cinema. Gonzalez has produced a masterpiece, an ode to film, arguing through his production not just the supposed satisfaction of Anne's art form for many, but tackling the long asked question of where the line is between art and porn. Through Knife + Heart, he makes a compelling case. 8.7/10