Claire Denis did something exceptionally special with High Life. She managed to overcome so many of the challenges facing the sub-genre of the space movie and effectively crafted nothing short of a masterpiece. Denis was clearly inspired by several other works, both within and outside of the genre – and this film seems to be pieced together by different concepts derived from other films, but somehow not only is it inspired by previous works, but it also manages to do some things better than them in several ways. This film is more intelligent than Interstellar, more terrifying than Alien and more philosophical than 2001: A Space Odyssey. This isn’t to say Denis made the definitive science fiction film – this is still a film with some flaws – but rather that she daringly took on the challenge of building a world that once again attempts to satiate our human desire to find out what lurks above us in the universe, yet presenting it in a way that was highly unique, extraordinarily complex and absolutely brilliant from start to finish. High Life is a masterful achievement, a deeply moving and bold experiment in genre-blending filmmaking, and the result is bound to be divisive, but still undeniably memorable, and perhaps that’s more than enough to establish this film as one of the year’s most audacious films.

Hurdling through space at some point in the near future is a large spacecraft of ambigious background. On board is a man named Monte (Robert Pattinson). His only companion on the enormous spacecraft is his infant daughter, with whom he spends most of the day when he is not making repairs to the deteriorating ship. We soon learn why Monte is alone on the enormous module, as well as the circumstances that put him there in the first place. Years before, he was a petty criminal put on death row for the murder of a friend. He and a few others in the same position were given a choice – live out your final days in prison and face the inevitable fate of the death sentence, or help with the progress of science by being launched into space to assist with genetic experiments occurring far above us. Monte naturally chooses the latter, but very soon discovers what was proposed as a bold scientific venture is actually far bleaker, and he and his fellow inhabitants will soon face a punishment worse than death, at the hands of the sinister Dr Dibs (Juliette Binoche), a sadistic doctor who harvests the reproductive cells of her human guinea pigs in the hopes of creating the perfect human specimen through a warped form of artificial insemination. There is far more to that mysterious mission, and should any of them survive the gruelling routine and the intense cabin fever that results in heightened violence, there’s a black hole nearby that will most certainly cause their demise. Monte, as well as the audience, only have one question: return may be impossible, but what about escape?

When it comes to career reinventions, very few people have achieved more impressively than Kristen Stewart and Robert Pattinson. Both have gone from teen idols in the critically-reviled Twilight films to arthouse darlings, the young performers of choice for several global auteurs. High Life stars Pattinson is what is one of his finest roles, once again abandoning the likeable heroic persona in favour for a more complex, conflicted character, which he perfected in films like The Rover and Good Time. Here, the actor is at his most brooding and sinister, playing Monte, the only person on the spacecraft that understands their situation fully, being fully aware that it is only a matter of time before all of them are dead, and whether the result of person-on-person violence, or something far more powerful, they are all essentially lost in space, heading towards a painful demise. Pattinson has a unique set of talents that make him an incredibly captivating leading man, possessing the appearance of a hero, but the underlying complexities of someone far more interesting. Pattinson’s sensibilities as an actor are fully evident here, as his inner turmoil in playing this character shows a substantial departure from the work that made him a household name. This is not an easy role, and much of the film requires Pattinson to be almost entirely solitary, playing an introspective and conflicted character, whose past is revealed piece by piece throughout, creating a potent personal tapestry of an unconventional protagonist. Pattinson is well on his way to becoming one of his generation’s most gifted actors, and films like this truly do prove that he’s a force to be reckoned with.

Juliette Binoche reunites with Denis after Let the Sunshine In, this time playing the villainous Dr Dibs, who is a fatal combination of Nurse Ratched and Hannibal Lecter, being a truly malicious but still compelling antagonist who terrorizes the crew and forces them into submission, yet having her own inner quandaries that she has to endure. She is not on the spacecraft only to conduct research – she is being punished for her own actions as well, as it becomes clear that it isn’t only the prisoners who have committed heinous crimes, but the person controlling them as well. Denis and Binoche do tremendously in creating a character who is not merely a one-dimensional villain, but someone with a motivation that the audience can somehow understand, which doesn’t necessarily make her more likeable, but rather more terrifying. This is brilliant work from an actress who has shown herself to be effortlessly capable of playing any kind of character but still challenging herself immensely here, playing a role that is impossible to coherently pin down into any particular archetype. Mia Goth and André Benjamin (otherwise known as André 3000, the frontman of one of the most influential hip hop groups of this generation) are amongst the supporting cast and give radically different but still equally gripping performances as fellow prisoners who meet grisly fates supposedly in the name of science. Benjamin, in particular, proves himself to be an extraordinary actor, capable of such exquisite subtlety, grounding this film and lending it some semblance of warmth, which goes a long way considering how cold and arid Denis’ vision is here.

What gives High Life such a memorable quality is how unique it is in terms of the underlying themes. This is far from the triumphant space film we’ve seen before, and extremely distant from being anything close to an entertaining film. This is most definitely more along the lines of Tarkovsky than Gravity, with Denis realizing the dark recesses of the abyss far more adequately than the sporadic others that have attempted it. This is a very dark film, one brooding with a sinister atmosphere that draws the viewer in and forces us into submission, as we are subjected to a form of cinematic torture, watching the tense and uncomfortable interactions between these characters, who are fully aware of their unfortunate destiny, but not the journey that will get them there. This is a hopeless film and a truly sinister piece of storytelling, and it never wavers from being as disconcerting as it possibly can. It is also one of the best films of the year, and an immense achievement in science fiction filmmaking that takes a radically different avenue from nearly every other film in its genre. Perhaps the biggest merit about High Life is that, despite being categorized under one of the most predictable genres, the viewer never knows what to expect with this film – everything is shrouded in mystery, with the film being populated by enigmatic characters and deeply ambigious situations that force us to reconsider every expectation we had going into this film. It also helps that Denis has abandoned the almost innocuous nature of science fiction filmmaking, putting aside the sterility of the stories and opting for something darkly erotic, whereby carnal desire and primal lust governs the relationships between characters. Just as Yorgos Lanthimos did with The Favourite and period dramas, Denis does with science fiction, using sexuality as a narrative tool to not only progress the story and give it substance and motivation, but also to unsettle the viewer and make us feel profoundly uncomfortable with the way something as deeply unsentimental as this can provoke a certain view of humanity and its instincts.

The most interesting quality of this film is how Denis deftly blends genres. High Life has a very unique blend of science fiction, horror, philosophical ponderings and social drama embedded deeply within it, and it never relies on any concept too long for it to become unnecessarily convoluted. Denis is a brilliant filmmaker, and while she may have some questionable films (her film before this, Let the Sunshine In, was almost unbearable in its crippling combination of hopeless pretentiousness and misguided attempts at humour), she has never been one to waver from something daring, and she may have just been bold enough to create a bona fide masterpiece. She is a filmmaker who has always been very subversive throughout her films, normally imbuing them with a certain unconventional quality that makes them so riveting, but nothing she has done to date comes close to being quite like High Life, and not only is it her first English-language film, it is also the film that sees her going beyond the already wide confines of her directorial career and bringing her unique brand of social commentary and provocative vision to quite literally an otherworldly level. This film was certainly going to be a risk, and its divided reaction is testament to how controversial it actually is – but considering Denis was fixated on making this film for over a decade, the ideas found within this film were gestating for a while, and are evident in how meticulously-crafted this film is, and how even a maestro like Denis is capable of challenging herself, and through doing so, she surmounted an immense set of obstacles to deliver what might define this era of her filmmaking career.

Not only is the story compelling and the acting exceptional in High Life, Denis made a film that isn’t only brilliant in concept, but a marvel on numerous levels. First and foremost, the cinematography in this film is beyond astonishing – there are some shots in this film that amongst the most beautiful I have ever seen, and when you are looking at science fiction (a genre that prioritizes visual audacity). Director of photography Yorick Le Saux clearly is adept at capturing the human condition through beautiful cinematography, as evident by his previous work, which includes some of the most visually-striking arthouse films of the past few years. Such moments include one towards the beginning of the film, where Pattinson is disposing of the corpses of his fellow victims, opening a door and being presented with…nothing. Just an endless void of deep, saturated blackness, representing the hopeless infinity of space. There are countless gorgeous moments throughout the film, which doesn’t necessarily contradict the nihilistic tone of the film but complements it beautifully. The music, composed by Stuart A. Staples (of Tindersticks), is simple but effective and contributes to the ethereal tone of the film. As a whole, High Life is a deeply captivating film that is as innovative in its technique as it is brilliant in its concept.

Nothing Denis has made has been quite as unique as High Life, and the film represents the director at her most profoundly complex. On the surface, it is easy to dismiss this film as nothing more than an erotic space horror (three words I never thought could appear alongside each other), but when we delve deeper into this film, we find some potent themes that may be represented through Denis’ subversive speculative vision, but starkly resonant to bigger issues that we can certainly relate to. This film is mainly one of survival and focusing on the character of Monte, we see the different ways in which he endures the inconceivably harsh nature of the great unknown, whether it be in small or grandiose actions. The theme of resilience plays an important part in this film – everyone on the spacecraft understands that they are doomed, but it doesn’t stop them from pursuing all possible means of survival. Throughout the film, we see characters update the system to make sure that the life support systems remain active for the next twenty-four hours at a time. A constant cycle of survival, which speaks to the strength of tenacity that comes in desperate times.

High Life finds an odd balance between the bleak and the hopeful throughout, contrasting the cold nihilism that comes when we realize our own insignificance and the small joys that come with fond memories of the past. Even those moments of earth-set despair are shown as being warm and endearing. Life on our planet may not always be easy, but it certainly beats being put on a reckless mission that will undoubtedly end in a cruel demise – and whether that is of the body or of the spirit depends on how you view the film. Denis’ almost optimistic nihilism is a difficult concept for us to even conceive, let alone for the filmmaker to represent in her work, but somehow she manages to do so, and the result is nothing short of extraordinary, and High Life is undoubtedly one of the year’s most extraordinary achievements, and a film that will be difficult for any viewer to forget. Whether it be in the audacious concept, the extraordinary performances, the breathtaking visual prowess or the general themes present throughout the film, this is a powerful work, one that will captivate the viewer and leave them exhilarated and disturbed in equal measure. This is utterly gorgeous filmmaking, and a wonderful piece of contemporary science fiction, taking familiar themes and presenting them in a new, terrifying way.