"Time heals all wounds." I'll bet director Gaspar Noé never heard that one. The theme to his Irreversible, the latest example of extreme filmmaking, is "Time destroys everything" -- a far more pessimistic take on the fourth dimension. Noé then proceeds to illustrate this bleak outlook in entrancing but harrowing cinematic fashion.

The film consists of multiple single-take sequences shown in backwards order -- that is, the last sequence that happens in the story is shown first, then the sequence that happened before that is shown next, and so on. The story is quite simple, and consists of three major parts -- character establishment, enactment of a crime, and revenge for the crime. Because of the movie's structure, we see the revenge first, then the crime, then the establishment.

What that modest little description doesn't tell you is how brutal the revenge and the crime are. A warning is in order here: this is not a movie for the weak-hearted. I won't go into detail about what happens, but, suffice it to say, the events are relentlessly violent and psychologically disturbing.

So why do it all this way? Why put in the terrible events and show them backwards? Well, it does get a point across as we're watching the movie. First we see this horrible act of revenge. At the time, we don't know it's an act of revenge. When we find out, we wonder if the revenge was deserved. Then we witness the crime, and it's so horrid we can't help feeling the revenge, as frightening as it may be, was deserved. But then we realize that the revenge may have been carried out on the wrong person. Next we see the characters who took part in all this -- the crime victim, the vengeance-seeker, and their friend who participated in the quest for revenge -- and they are all normal people, laughing, joking, loving, unaware of their fates. Time can be cruel indeed -- the events that will occur can't be taken back, nor can they be foreseen and prevented, nor can they be justified in any way.

Seeing the characters happy in the past, after we've already seen what will happen to them, creates a regretful mood of frustration where we wish things could turn out differently. The inevitability of the events gains more gravity the further we go back -- their life-shattering impact contrasts with what is revealed about the extent of the characters' happiness. And as we go back further still, we see how the events carry little meaning -- they are just cold cruelties no one can do anything about as life marches forward. Like Gerry, Irreversible seems to take a perverse pleasure in showing us how ultimately insignificant our lives are in the grand scheme of things.

The film is both strengthened and weakened by its bold presentation. It begins with the end credits scrolling backwards and slanting slowly. Its early sequences, during which the vengeance-seekers search in frenzied desperation for the criminal, are shot with non-stop swirling motions, drenched in red light, and backed by a constant rumbling sound. The movie calms down as the story recedes into the past, but remains strikingly photographed and lit. Overall, it's exciting to watch -- the eyes are never given a dull moment, and the feeling of urgency is ever-present.

Unfortunately, this style also smacks of prententiousness --almost demanding the viewer to recognize it as Art, with a capital "A." Nowhere is this more evident than in the film's rather thudding ending, which begins with a shot of a poster for 2001: A Space Odyssey and strains of Beethoven's "7th Symphony," and eventually concludes with a hyper strobe light. It ends with a subliminal picture before finally displaying a big ol' title card with the words "Time destroys everything" in French. Not exactly subtle, is it? But I suppose we should expect no less from a movie that tries so hard to tax our senses. Yes, Irreversible overdoes things, but the experience of watching it is an unforgettable one.

(Released by Lions Gate Films; not rated by MPAA.)

Review also posted at www.windowtothemovies.com.