The post-apocalyptic landscape is a pretty familiar setting by this point, with most of us at least in part prepared for the day when rule of law has been replaced by the savagery of warring clans and 80s leather punk returns as the defining fashion of the era. It is a cruel, bleak place, where all pleasures are transient and all  victories are of a moral sort, insignificant in the larger scope of things. But what if, rather than devolutionary, the breakdown of society was a cathartic event, allowing us to express feelings and ideas that would never otherwise find traction in a world where people have to, you know, go to work and be responsible for each other? It's never clear exactly why any of the characters in Black Moon are doing any of the things that they're doing, but one thing is certain: no one would be going along with any of it if they didn't live in a perpetual war zone.
In the opening scenes of the film, Lily (Cathryn Harrison), drives across a French countryside that seems to have devolved into something resembling the Talking Heads song, "Life During Wartime", in which men and women in sexless green uniforms execute each other on the side of the road. Rushing to escape, Lily makes her way to a small farmhouse in the countryside, populated by Old Lady (Therese Giehse), who lays in bed all day, Sister Lily (Alexandra Stewart), and brother Lily (Joe Dallesandro), who sings opera while working in the yard. Because a war without context didn't establish this as an absurdist piece clearly enough, there are also a number of naked children who run around, and a fat grey unicorn. Here, the plot essentially stops, and becomes subservient to a series of images loosely wrapped around Lily's budding sexuality. Well, probably it's about that; if you're not sure what a movie's about, that's always a good guess.
The problem with Alice in Wonderland (aside from it being the hellspawn of an opium-addicted pedophile) has always been that Alice has never really been more than an empty vessel for us to look though to Carroll's carnival of abnormalities, the scope of her reactions limited to wonder, shock, and awe. Effective for Victorian literature, sure, but perhaps the reason there's never really been a definitive cinematic adaptation. Here, Malle both inverts and conflates the problem, with his Alice surrogate never displaying a shock in equal measure with ours. Sure, she's been living with the terror of this awful place for a very long time, and is possibly inured to it by now, but by the time that Sister Lily starts breast-feeding the Old Lady in the bed (relatively early in the picture), and her response is not to, say, leave the room, it starts feeling like we don't really have any friends in this place, and all we can do is appreciate the audacity of what's being displayed on screen, whenever we're able to determine what that is.
To be fair, it is never less than audacious, or capably staged, shot, or acted (were it not, Black Moon would probably be completely unwatchable). Whatever larger intellectual goals Malle may have had with this film are perhaps moot (though being a young man in the time of the Nazi occupation of France may have provided some direction to his imagery), but what comes across in a world set loose, the unspoken instincts of an unrehearsed people made manifest. It's unnerving to be sure, but for an absurdist film, it's neither played for detached laughter nor does it seem to have been created in a vacuum. It is, instead, a vision of madness that those unshackled from social discipline could plausibly recognize, even if it is never particularly inviting, as it never provides anything resembling a framework for understanding how it got there in the first place.
BONUS FEATURES
There is an archival interview with Louis Malle, as well as a gallery of behind-the scenes photographs and the original theatrical trailer. There's also a French-dubbed audio track, for those who would like the experience to be a little more continental
"Black Moon (The Criterion Collection)" is on sale June 28, 2011 and is not rated. Foreign. Written and directed by Louis Malle. Starring Cathryn Harrison, Therese Giehse, Alexandra Stewart, Joe Dallesandro.
