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The Beast, written and directed by Bertrand Bonello, is loosely based on a Henry James novella. The Beast in the Jungle (1903) follows a man incapable of living a fulfilling life because of an unshakeable fear that catastrophe is waiting around the corner. In The Beast, his indeterminate anxieties are embodied by a woman named Gabrielle (Léa Seydoux) the film will introduce in different incarnations in three timelines: one in 1914 Paris, where she is a gifted pianist known for her “rare sensitivity” who has married a rich and boring dollmaker for societal comfort; 2014 Los Angeles, where she is an aspiring model and actress housesitting a sleek, ominously huge mansion; and 2044 Paris (again), where the world has become so consumed by artificial intelligence that the unemployment rate has soared to 67% and human emotions are deemed a liability. It’s become practically a necessity to get your DNA “cleansed” so that you’re better able to live and work without feeling — the traumas that have unknowingly followed you from past lives. (Gabrielle’s very reluctant decision in 2044 to get on with that cleansing is the reason we get acquainted with her former selves: she’s getting a glimpse of them for the first time, too.) 

The cause of the impending disaster all versions of Gabrielle say they feel is coming is always some version of an Englishman named Louis (George McKay). In 1914, he’s a dashing high-society man whom Gabrielle will eventually leave her husband for. In 2014, he’s a furious incel in the Elliot Rodger mold who has randomly made Gabrielle his object of murderous lust. And in 2044, he’s a man she encounters and likes who too is considering a DNA cleanse. The Beast feels, at times, like a freaky riff on Alain Resnais’ Last Year at Marienbad (1961), the famously enigmatic romantic drama where a stylish pair stationed at a luxe hotel wondered if they had, in fact, met before, their hazy connection possibly deeper than that of mere strangers.

Read the full review on South Sound.