such wild emotional extremes can only be properly expressed in song, an article of faith that "Annette" embraces with fervid imagination and playful, unshakable conviction
like so many of the best and strangest moments that festivals like this bring, it's nearly impossible to witness it all and not walk away feeling altered (irrationally, emotionally, chemically) in some way
it's variously embarrassing and delightful; "Annette" is sure to be divisive, but it's a curio that demands to be seen. It's not as if you get to watch surreal, avant-garde rock operas very often
it's such a loopy endeavour overall that "Annette" will likely have some audiences running from it screaming as much as it will have others worshipping at its altar. It's a hard film to adore, but an easy one to thank for its very existence
it's an odd film and a fascinating one—narratively simplistic, artistically complex—at times ravishing and then puzzling, much like the enigmatic films of Carax and the idiosyncratic music of Sparks
it possibly the most delicate film of the year. An odd mix of chaos and order that is captivating; through its offbeat storytelling and wild delivery, each moment of "Annette" is a tour de force of emotion and creativity
it is the kind of marriage between music and film that either works or falls flat on its face. Fortunately they have Adam Driver, who jumps into this role with complete abandon
combining the energizing compositions of Sparks with Carax's ever-enigmatic creativity, "Annette" powers through its expressive rock opera conceit with a propulsive Adam Driver at its center
Carax has delivered something gloriously gnarled and uncomfortable: a bludgeoning rock opera that takes aim at the entertainment industry and the dregs of toxic masculinity; that flourishes just as it drips with self-loathing
a wildly melodramatic rock opera prone to insane flights of desire, despair, and dorkiness, "Annette" is gloriously artificial, often daring us to take it seriously
a bold experiment that’s frustratingly out of tune; The different sensibilities involved rarely mesh together and the songs - mostly thin and unmemorable, more often talky than melodic, with obsessively repetitive lyrics - seldom ignite much feeling
"Annette" is a forthright and declamatory and crazy spectacle, teetering over the cliff edge of its own nervous breakdown, demanding that we feel its pain, feel its pleasure and take it seriously;it's a swoon of anxiety and rapture