Sex. Cars. Sex with cars. Julia Ducourmau’s sophomore film is every bit as provocative as her debut cannibalistic college-romp Raw. In only two films, Ducourmau has already proven herself to be a master at adult horror.

Titane is the story of a young girl named Alexia who picks the wrong time to take her seat belt off in a speeding car. Trying to get her back safely into her seat, her father reaches towards the back seat, losing control of the car. As the car spins and crashes to a stop, we see Alexia’s skull has smash hard against the window.

Once in the hospital, doctors place a titanium plate in Adrien’s head. On release, the family is told to play attention to Alexa’s behaviour in case she begins acting oddly. Before she gets into the car to go home, we watch Alexa kiss the car window. Love is the air.

Years later, an adult Alexia (Agathe Rousselle) works as a dancer at car shows. Her popularity gives her unwanted attention from fans. Fortunately, Adrien carries with her a large metal hairpin, and she has no issues using it as a weapon to kill when she can get away with it. Turns out, Alexia lives a secret life as a serial killer. That is, when she’s not too busy, literally, fucking cars. And yes, she does not wear protection. And yes, she does get impregnated by the car. And finally, yes, any movie with Titane’s plot has no business being as great as Titane actually is.  

Obviously, Titane is not your run-of-the-mill night out at the movies. Because it dabbles in the surreal, people tend to compare Titane to the films of David Lynch. Personally, I see more shades of Kiyoshi Kurosawa. Titane, like Pulse or Cure, flows through its narrative with the logic of a dream. Kurosawa also uses the horror in his stories as subtext for social ailments. In a similar vane, Ducourmau riddles Titane with images that speak directly to ideas around gender identity. Ad like a Kurosawa film, you may not look back at Titane and understand everything that happened, but you most likely will understand its point.

As a filmmaker who dabble in body horror and extreme content, Ducourmau puts a remarkable amount of humanity into her films. In Raw, there is that unbelievably great finger scene that helps cement the sister’s relationship. In Titane, humanity comes from the arrival of Vincent (Vincent Lindon), who accepts a disguised, androgynous-looking Alexia as his lost son Adrien and begins caring for her like a loving father. The great irony in Titane is that the more mutilated Alexia’s body gets (i.e- broken nose and taped breasts to look more masculine; taped belly to hide the pregnancy) the more connected to humanity she feels.

And who other than Ducourmau could film car sex with such style? I joke, but the truth is that the cinematography in Titane is fantastic. For example, there is that long take of Alexia at the car show while The Kills “Doing it to Death” plays in the background. And then there is the multiple murder scene. Ducourmau also has total control over the film’s tone. All of the insanity works because Ducourmau knows how to take it seriously, yet there is enough self-knowing dark humour to turn the affair into something that is completely joyless and pretentious.

Fans of Raw will also appreciate the appearance of Garance Marillier as a potential sexual partner and victim for Alexia.

Ducourmau only has two feature films under her belt, but it is alright to start to consider her an equal to directors such as Gasper Noe or Lars von Trier. Raw and Titane are that good. (After all, there is a reason Titane won the Palme d’Or at Cannes.) Ducourmau has a style and voice that is provocative and unique. Titane is a smart film that takes the stereotypes of the toxic man and objectified woman and slowly subverts them. This surreal mixed-genre masterpiece is the very definition of a unique cinematic experience.  

And if nothing else, see it for the car sex.