Movie Review: “Eden” Is Neon Lights, Drug-Fueled Nights And Daft Punk

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Paul, a teenager in the underground scene of early-nineties Paris, forms a DJ collective with his friends and together they plunge into the nightlife of sex, drugs, and endless music.

Daft Punk have remained one of the most popular electronic music acts since Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo and Thomas Bangalter formed the duo back in the mid-1990s. The key to their success has always been accessibility – from house to funk to electro to techno, they evolved with the music, constantly introducing new elements and euphoric sounds to their repertoire. “Eden” is not about Daft Punk, though they are prominently featured throughout the film. “Eden,” amongst many other things, is about the deejays that emerged around the same time, but failed – or consciously refused – to keep up with the trends, forever remaining in the increasingly less-welcoming “cubby hole” of 1990s rave culture, their personal “Edens.”

Based on the experiences of Sven Hansen-Løve – brother of Eden’s director, the uber-talented Mia Hansen-Løve (“Goodbye First Love”) – the film explores the allure of the 1990s underground dance scene, when house music was at its glorious peak, and traces its evolution (or, as some would argue, its devolution) through the 2000s.

Some things have changed significantly along with the music (the novelty / sense of discovery has worn off; the clothes lost their acidic tones and eight-inch platform shoes), some have not (ecstasy and cocaine still mostly go hand-in-hand with the EDM clubbing experience). “Eden” touches on a wide variety of subjects – the fleetingness of young love, the rebellious nature of artists, the deceptiveness of creative impulses, the bitterness of rivalry – but at its heart it’s about the necessity to change and adapt. Paul, the film’s protagonist (and Sven’s alter ego), resolutely refuses to change, clinging to the brief glory of the old days, as the club scene gradually wedges him out. And Daft Punk is always in the background, leading the electronic dance movement, as if taunting Paul, showing him how it’s done – but he refuses to listen.

The protagonist’s murky existence is reflected by the film’s kaleidoscopic, “stop-and-go” momentum – delving into the neon-spotted darkness of the clubs, and then back out into the sobering light of day; going from girlfriend to girlfriend (the always-stellar Greta Gerwig makes an appearance early on, and disappears for most of the film, just to reemerge at the end, in one of the most affecting sequences in the film); shifting from year to year – and sometimes skipping through years – like flipping through a radiant, acid-tinged sketchbook. This approach is both effective in demonstrating the larger, epic scope, and intermittently problematic, as it rarely gives one the opportunity to truly understand Paul (Félix de Givry’s muted central performance doesn’t help much), or allow scenes to dramatically evolve – or, for that matter, truly grip the audience.

There are many highlights, such as one character’s ardent – and weirdly sensible – championing of Paul Verhoeven’s 1990s “disaster-piece” ‘Showgirls’; or the brutal and unexpected death of another central character, which emphasizes the film’s main theme of unrealized potential and failed ambitions. But, for all its four-by-four beats and grandiose ambition, “Eden” often lacks forward momentum of similarly-themed films like Mathieu Kassovitz’ classic exploration of aimlessness “La Haine,” or even Doug Liman’s glimpse of 1990s rave culture “Go,” or Harmony Korine’s recent, basked-in-neon-lights “Spring Breakers.” Those films may not possess “Eden”‘s ambition and scope, but “Eden” could certainly use some of their drive and amaranthine energy.

Paul, in all his aimlessness and poetic waxing, resembles the central protagonist of the Coen Brothers’ “Inside Llewyn Davis,” which “Eden” also brings to mind, substituting folk music with house beats – the irony is that Inside is more compulsively watchable, because it truly gets inside Llewyn’s head, tracing his morose existence through a series of darkly-funny and compelling sequences, but Paul remains somewhat of an enigma throughout “Eden.” Even the long musical interludes, while beautiful and nostalgic, begin to get repetitive.

But perhaps that’s the point. For Paul, this club life is Eden, and the repetitiveness serves as a reminder that, sooner or later, everyone gets exiled.

In select theaters July 3rd