Carax, who shot to the forefront of world cinema in his twenties, here wrestles with fame, success, love, and family; if his fidelity to Melville's plot constrains his image-making somewhat (and his sense of humor), it doesn't limit the rock-operatic, heaven-storming intensity of his inner vision. Bathos and rage, ambition and frustration, and forbidden lust (filmed with a post-pornographic precision) converge in a sort of furious and less than fond farewell to himself.
Richard Brody
October 8, 2012