An enigmatic young man runs down the street – we can’t tell if he’s overcome with joy or panic, and the use of David Bowie’s “Modern Love” doesn’t make his state of mind any more clear, and only creates more dissonance between the tone and what is being asserted in this particular moment. Yet, despite the confusion we’d normally feel in such a scene, there isn’t a moment where we are seeking the answers – this is the brilliance of Leos Carax, a director who does not make films that are made to be understood. He’s a filmmaker who seems to be driven by the principle that the more the audience tries to search for meaning, the less they truly understand – and in this case, we can find this being present in Mauvais Sang (“Bad Blood”), his astonishing sophomore directorial effort, and the film that brought him a wealth of attention and acclaim, both domestically in his native France, where he was hailed as a wunderkind, and amongst global audiences, particularly those with a penchant for the absurd and unconventional, finding an abundance of merit in his steadfast artistic curiosity and willingness to dismantle all known artistic conventions. Set in the near future, the film follows a lonely young man who is recruited by a pair of mysterious career criminals to steal the cure for a sexually transmitted disease that is affecting the population, particular since it infects those who engage in intercourse without passion, causing dire illness for those who take part in loveless affairs without any substance. Along the way, he meets the demure but intriguing partner of one of his employers. They begin their torrid love affair, unlocking a desire in one another that neither realized still existed, leading to some enormous tension, particularly when the plan goes off the rails and the quest for wealth turns into an act of survival. Brilliantly subversive and incredibly layered in ways that are sometimes difficult to put into words, Mauvais Sang touches on ideas that feel both universal and extremely specific, Carax engaging in the art of oscillating between ideas that resonate and concepts that unsettle, which has been the modus operandi for the esteemed director since his emergence, and which he’s continued to develop consistently as time has progressed.

A quality that we find is consistently at the core of most of Carax’s work is that he does not limit his films to simply one-dimensional examinations of common themes. Instead, he crafts elegant and engaging stories that are as narratively engaging as they are visually and technically striking. In the case of Mauvais Sang, he negotiates the very narrow boundary between genres, namely crafting a film that functions as both a romantic drama and tense psychological thriller, the two working in tandem, but not in the ways we would necessarily expect. The extent to which Carax was drawn to real events, and which aspects of this story spring from his seemingly infinite imagination remain to be seen, but it’s difficult to imagine any film made in the 1980s in which a sexually-transmitted disease is killing hoards of people was not at least partially in response to the fears and anxieties surrounding the HIV/AIDS epidemic – but rather than responding directly to these themes, Carax is more focused on creating a film that exists in dialogue with this concept, curating a few key comparisons that flourish into their bespoke components, and which draw us even further into the many layers of this incredible film. Mauvais Sang is constructed as an extremely unconventional view of romance and the feeling of falling in love with someone who may not be able to reciprocate those emotions, particularly focusing on the sense that can best be described as a combination of confusion and joy – the landmark scenes that occur throughout the film aren’t notable only because of their construction, but also their incredible nuance in relating to the underlying themes, which may seem dense and intimidating on first, but which Carax and everyone involved assure is not nearly as difficult to comprehend, granted we’re able to surrender to the unorthodox tone that exists somewhere between wholehearted surrealism and offbeat satire, both of which are perfectly encapsulated into absolutely every frame of this incredibly poignant and unquestionably ambitious attempt to rework common ideas into a truly unique format.

However, while the story itself may be fascinating, it means very little when not accompanied by the director’s distinctive visual flair, and we find that Mauvais Sang is as creative in its execution as it is profound in the conversations that punctuate the film – and Carax most definitely does not waste any resources when it comes to realizing these ideas. He was still quite young at the time, but yet had an ambition and drive to do something radically different that suggests he possessed the skills of a much more mature filmmaker, precisely in how he refuses to adhere to any particular standards, a controversial choice for any novice. The scope of this film cannot be overstated – every frame is worthy of analysis all on its own, which is a credit to both Carax and director of photography Jean-Yves Escoffier, whose cinematography is some of the most striking and evocative of the era. They make exceptional use of colour and framing to create these unforgettable compositions, each one detailed and masterful. These images are accompanied by a score that is mainly a blend of existing music (this may be one of the few times we can see David Bowie and Sergei Prokofievcredited together), but which are carefully curated to carry an abundance of weight, doing more than just setting the mood for particular scenes, and instead actively conveying complex ideas through the chosen cues and what they represent. Everything ultimately coalesces in the fact that Mauvais Sang is a film driven more by its atmosphere than it is the story – it may have some intriguing insights into the human condition and the ideas that dominated the culture at the time, but it is built from a particularly offbeat, dreamlike structure that eventually eclipses the narrative details, becoming a freewheeling, captivating experiment, and is all the more complex as a result. How Carax playfully experiments with logic to create a series of poetic, slightly uncanny moments is masterful in itself, and the quietly provocative nature of the themes explored only supports the idea that Mauvais Sang is a truly bespoke work of experimental cinema.

Carax has always found a lot of value in collaboration, and whether working with those behind or in front of the camera, he brings the same sense of community to these excursions into this boundless vision. He’s amassed quite an impressive roster of actors throughout his career, some of which are recurring and others merely taking part in one film. Mauvais Sang contains a combination of both – on one end, we have the second of five collaborations with Denis Lavant (unquestionably the director’s muse, and someone whose presence in the majority of his films has alone consolidated him into arthouse history) and Juliette Binoche, with whom he’d reunite a few years later in The Lovers on the Bridge, another incredibly poetic view of romance, whereas on the other we have the likes of Michel Piccolli, Julie Delpy and Hans Meyer, who have prominent supporting roles and prove to be essential elements in this incredibly complex work. Much of the acclaim directed towards this film has been focused on the chemistry between Lavant and Binoche, who are both unique actors in their own right, but how to find a peculiar compatibility, particularly since they both play into the unconventional nature of these roles. Lavant’s unique appearance and remarkable physicality are an absolute highlight and help create this extremely unique character who feels like he was plucked directly from the mind of a truly talented madman, which is a term we can use to describe both the actor and Carax, who essentially gives him the space to develop this unconventional protagonist. Binoche uses her striking beauty to create this mysterious, pixie-like woman who is constantly attempting to find her place in the world, which proves to be quite a difficult endeavour for reasons that become increasingly clear the more time we spend with her. She is subdued (which is one of the many talents she’s harnessed over the years, from her rise as an enigmatic young performer to one of the defining figures of the 21st-century arthouse) but willful, and her performance is magnetic, with both leads working in close collaboration with the director to create these magnificent and captivating protagonists that define the film.

Words are not sufficient when it comes to trying to define Mauvais Sang and its unique, unconventional elements. The only appropriate way to approach this film is simply to leap in its general direction, and hope that some element will draw us in and allow us to peer into this world, which is not unlike our own, but where everything is slightly off-kilter and difficult to comprehend. Much like his other works, this film is an acquired taste, and will not be easily embraced by those who are not willing to take a chance on a story that is deeply unnerving, but where so much beauty can be extracted from its slow and gradual release of these poetic, poignant ideas, which is an experience that is impossible to describe, and which we can only truly understand through abandoning all sense of logic. Seated within a recognizable reality that is gradually dismantled to form something much more disquieting but not any less impactful, Mauvais Sang is a revolutionary piece of filmmaking that reminds us of Carax’s incredible gifts, especially when it comes to creating worlds that are bold, daring and filled with experimental elements that say more about the human condition than many other works. Perhaps it doesn’t rise to the immense heights of some of his later work and may contain a few small signs that he was still a younger, slightly more inexperienced filmmaker, but the film is nonetheless an exceptional work and about as close to a masterpiece as we could expect for something that explores such harrowing themes in a manner so unconventional but achingly beautiful.