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Dec 18, 2024 Web Exclusive By Kaveh Jalinous Photography by Janus Contemporaries

A man and a woman meet at a French salon in 1910. But, they’ve met before; or at least, they’ll meet again. It feels like they’ve known each other forever; yet, it feels like they haven’t known each other at all. It’s this simple premise that encapsulates much of French auteur Bertrand Bonello’s newest film, The Beast. And yet, the director’s newest film is anything but simple—playing as a sprawling epic through time, space and even emotion. It’s a film that’s both difficult and easy to watch, and one that rewards rewatching. It also may be one of the best films of the year.

The basic premise of The Beast centers around the relationship between Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) and Louis (George MacKay), in three different time periods. In 1910, the two meet at a salon, where they talk about how they met once before, six years earlier. In this timeline, Gabrielle has a husband, but she and Louis begin to spend more time with one another. In 2014, Gabrielle is house sitting in a magnificent Los Angeles mansion; Louis is a vlogging, incel-like figure. The two fall into a complicated, cat-and-mouse-like obsession. Both of these timelines are tied together by the 2044 storyline, which takes place in an AI-powered, employment-heavy world where humans try to ‘purify’ their DNA, in order to ‘erase’ their emotions and increase their job prospects. As Gabrielle undergoes this process, revisiting her past relationships, we learn more about the ways that she and Louis are connected, for better and for worse.

The construction of The Beast is a marvel in itself. Bonello weaves through the film’s different storylines with remarkable ease, creating a tension between timelines that allow them to sync together while still feeling distinct enough from one another. A common criticism of The Beast is that the film’s narratives feel like three separate movies—in particular, the somewhat long and thematically pertinent 2014-set act. I’d argue that the decision to smash these storylines together is actually the film’s greatest success. In a narrative sense, the rapid-fire pacing keeps you at a whirlwind, never quite sure of where the film is going to go next yet always curious to see how these two characters’ pasts, and presents, intertwine in so many more ways beneath the surface. In a constructive sense, Bonello’s film rewards those who pay extra attention. Little moments—from blocking decisions, to lines of dialogue, to direct motifs—repeat themselves throughout the film, regardless of which setting or storyline is shown on-screen. And in a thematic sense, the through-line of The Beast feels like interesting commentary on the ways in which emotions can evolve, for better and for worse. What starts as overly-idealized passion turns quickly into violent obsession, making you consider the validity of the characters’ desire to rid themselves of what makes them feel either of those things.

If the first half of The Beast mostly tackles the 1910 storyline, and the second primarily explores the 2014 one, it’s interesting to consider the role of the 2044 narrative, and the fact that it primarily appears as interstitial chunks. In many senses, it feels like the most grounded and pressing part of the entire film. The futuristic Paris looks like the one of today, just without many people roaming the streets. The crowded clubs, named and themed after different years, feel like direct commentary on people’s desires to go back to the past in order to escape the monotony and dullness of the present. In this sense, the very idea of freeing yourself from emotion, considering the thing that makes us feel human as our biggest burden, is endlessly fascinating to ruminate on, especially in a time that simultaneously feels so emotionally charged yet strangely numb. There are so many ideas flowing through this plotline, yet the world Bonello has constructed is so fascinating that it almost feels like there aren’t enough.

Janus Contemporaries’ new edition of the film is light on special features, but it does come with a new interview with Bonello and a short but interesting essay from Michael Joshua Rowin. Regardless, the release is a perfect chance to catch up on one of the year’s best and most fascinating films to unpack, and also to consider Seydoux’s and MacKay’s performances, which are surely two of the best performances of the year (I’ve been patiently waiting for MacKay to have his proper breakout moment, as he’s been both picking and excelling in such interesting projects).

(www.criterion.com/films/34331-the-beast)