Mr. X Review

Mr. X, Tessa Louise-Salomé's documentary about French provocateur Leos Carax, is most intended for the director's most passionate fans.  As a relative newcomer to the director's work - Holy Motors was my first, and to date only, meeting with Carax's films - some of this documentary's insights lack context, and thus, fail to prove as revelatory as they might for others who are more well-versed.  Still, the behind-the-scenes stories about the five features Carax has made since 1984 (he's Malick-esque in his output) prove interesting even for the uninitiated, and the film has deeper observations to make that extend beyond cataloguing an enigmatic director's work.

However, Mr. X is very much a catalogue.  Though scenes and shots from various films pop up at different times, this slim documentary - it clocks in at around 70 minutes - is mostly a chronological march through Carax's career, starting with his celebrated breakthrough, Boy Meets Girl.  In the interviews that specifically address this film or that one, a prior familiarity will surely prove helpful.  But even without, this is a parade through the work of a dreamer who translates his visions with startling visual clarity to the big screen.  He weaves shadow and fantasy into concrete imagery that defies easy description or points of comparison.  He's an auteur in the most precise sense of the word: each film bears the inimitable stamp of Carax's directorial vision, most obviously displayed through his startling, beautiful imagery.  No one makes films like him.

Perhaps the film's greatest asset is how it delves into Carax's relationship with regular collaborator Denis Lavant.  There is a deep trust between the actor and director, enough so that Lavant recalls putting himself through seemingly impossible paces to ready himself for each part, becoming a romantic hero and effective action star as he stared down incredible emotional and physical feats.  Lavant is one of the threads that carries throughout Mr. X, which otherwise sometimes feels like a disjointed collection of stories and memories.  He is always there, commenting on the director's boundless creativity, their sometimes difficult relationship, the challenges of their often intersecting careers.  It's a testament to Carax that he has inspired such trust in a truly talented actor, but also to Lavant that he is able to rise to each new challenge Carax poses, such as playing ten different characters in Holy Motors.

Mr. X doesn't burrow into the mind of a brilliant filmmaker, but rather attempts to let his films do the talking.  And it works, mostly.  The footage from the films, and the quotes from Carax that sometimes materialize onscreen provide a glimpse into the mind of a genius, or perhaps a madman, if there's a difference.  Salomé's documentary reminds us that film is a means for endless magic, but that few filmmakers tap into the boundless potential.  Carax is one of the few, and if nothing else, Mr. X tells us that.  And, for me, it makes me want to run out and find copies of all of Carax's films, so I can share in his feverish dreams full of poetic heroes and remarkable sights.