DESTROY ME MORE: SELF-DESTRUCTION AND MUTUAL ANNIHILATION AS A TRANSCENDENTAL ART
“A journey toward the estrangement of the self from the self…”
—Susan Sontag
DESTROY ME MORE is a series of films about self-destruction that go beyond punishment. Rather, they depict a kind of self-destruction that approaches a total untethering of one’s ‘self’ from one’s physical form, breaking through the limits of consciousness. These films deal with characters who have an uncompromising impulse to self-immolate and become something beyond themselves, beyond human—whether in complete solitude or total enrapture in another person, catapulting towards annihilation. It’s romantic, it’s grotesque, played out, idealistic, problematic, and yet—it’s true. And it’s impossible outside of fiction.
In the Era of Self-Expression that we live in, a film about self-destruction is a powerful thing. Rebecca J. Erickson observes “an increasing fetishisation of the individual, such that the search for, or articulation of, the ‘true self’ has become an all-consuming project,” with authenticity as the new ultimate consumer good. Instead of working towards building authentic characters, films about the obscene hidden desires of individuals like those in this series present the impossibility of this self-obsessed task. Representations of the self-destructive tendency, that dark taboo desire that lurks within every individual, at some time in their lives, in some part of their psyche, take individuality to its most extreme state—a person taking the ultimate control over their own fate, ironically ending up in annihilation.
“Works dealing with that specific and sharpest inflection of the themes of lust, ‘the obscene,’ [are about death]. It’s toward the gratifications of death, succeeding and surpassing those of eros, that every truly obscene quest tends.”
—Susan Sontag
Come lose yourself at the Beacon this September.
Films in this Program
David Cronenberg
100 MINUTES
Marina de Van
93 MINUTES
The Beacon is proud to be premiering the glorious new restoration of IN MY SKIN by Severin Films!
Shinya Tsukamoto
91 MINUTES
Co-written and directed by Shinya Tsukamoto (TETSUO: THE IRON MAN), KOTOKO is a nightmarish and hallucinogenic feast for the senses from Japan’s most consistently irreverent genre filmmaker. Kotoko (pop star and co-writer Cocco, in her first starring role) is a mother struggling to raise her young son Daijiro. As her grip on reality lessens, Kotoko begins to see doubles of everyone — one good, and one evil. Unfortunately, she can’t tell which one is real. As Kotoko’s life devolves into a paranoia-induced state, a famous author (played by Tsukamoto) takes an interest in her… for better or worse.
“The extreme brutality of Kotoko’s self-harm and Tanaka’s disfigurement borders on the grotesque—this is in line with the emotional realism embodied in the physicality of characters in other Tsukamoto movies like TOKYO FIST. In KOTOKO, however, the wounds are not emblems of exploration, transformation, or even a release of explosive angst leading the character to experience jouissance. Instead, they represent the desperation and isolation mothers experience, dealt with as a last-ditch Hail Mary of sorts—an attempt to experience the living force of the body by a psyche weary of life.”—Mahim Lakhani
Michael Haneke
131 MINUTES
Claire Denis
101 MINUTES
Juan López Moctezuma
77 MINUTES
Nagisa Ōshima
105 MINUTES
Giuseppe Patroni Griffi
102 MINUTES
Newly restored in 4K by Cinematheque of Bologna and Severin Films!
Julia Ducournau
108 MINUTES
Those not watching between their fingers will risk cringing, as if right out of their bodies, in abject horror and hypnotic fascination as newcomer Agathe Rousselle embodies a palpable dysphoria that seethes with anguish and rage. Conversely, the ever-soulful Vincent Lindon exudes such empathetic desperation as a father seeking redemption that the film frequently achieves a transcendental sublimity—particularly during its infectious reveries of music and dance.
Fluidly exploring themes of sexuality, gender identity, and parenthood in tandem with Ducournau’s now-signature body-horror sensibilities and gory gallows humour, TITANE is an unflinching foray to the very peaks (and depths) of human extremities. It is a Midnight masterpiece.
Buckle the fuck up.
(Peter Kuplowsky)