The important thing to remember when watching Holy Motors, the first feature film from director Leos Carax in thirteen years, is that it doesn't make sense and that it isn't necessarily supposed to. That's not to say that it is a dense, completely incomprehensible film, or that any aspect of its production prevents clarity. It's pretty stunning on every level. But it's also a purposefully surrealistic journey through the streets of Paris and the world of cinema, as Carax hurtles recklessly through different styles and genres at a dizzying clip. Like Last Year at Marienbad or Inland Empire, this results in a film which is rich in strange, vivid imagery and sensuous pleasures, but which is best enjoyed in a visceral, emotional or thematic sense, rather than on any narrative level.