Shea Gallagher’s review published on Letterboxd:
If I were feeling more charitable I might say this is an interesting exploration of the complex that "enlightened" frat boys can have after they go down the rabbit hole of mind-altering substances, how spiritual jargon gets thrown into the mix ("Did you read The Book of the Dead?") and how an out of body experience can in fact reveal your internalised insecurity and misogyny (and Oedipal tendencies, apparently??) and how enlightenment/rebirth is just finding a pair of titties to suck, so to speak. Unfortunately, it is hard to feel charitable after entering the void.
If I'm honest this is like being trapped in a dirty dorm room by one of those guys who has done DMT and claims to understand the workings of the world, how we are all just beams of light going around fucking each other whilst forever bound to our past and future through cosmic interconnectedness and whatnot, searching for a path in this meaningless life. For brief moments you might find a worthwhile strand in this tedious waffle and if you just tune out and let the dull noise wash over you it can actually be quite pleasant, but for the most part paying attention just makes you want to hurl yourself out of a window.
Even masks couldn't stifle the giggling of the people in the row behind us, which I can only assume to be an expression of disbelief and derision. I found it impossible not to snicker in solidarity, though I do find it all too laughable to truly despise, as irritating and interminable as it is. But I've definitely had my fill of Gaspar Noé. Would love a first-person perspective of a baseball bat bonking him on his silly head.