So, kids… don’t do drugs.
That’s the take away from David Moreau’s MadS, a daring cinematic experience that plunges viewers into a harrowing night of drug-fueled chaos and confusion, all captured in a single breathtaking, uninterrupted take.
This stylistic choice thrusts the audience into a relentless tide of tension and uncertainty, blurring the lines between reality and hallucination. It transforms the viewing experience into something akin to a feature-length exploration of a single, nightmarish vision. Picture the subway scene with Tim Robbins in Jacob’s Ladder—now envision that single scene expanded into an entire film. Infuse it with a dose of blood, gore, and operatic hysteria, and you’ve got MadS.
The story opens with Romain (Milton Riche) doing drugs that he has just gotten from his drug dealer. Soon after, he is heading back to his apartment. On the way he encounters a badly mutilated woman covered in bandages. And from this moment on things go very very badly for poor Romain. The film defies traditional narrative structure presenting itself more as a prolonged hallucination. Is the woman real? Is she not real? The film eventually hints that something more is happening in the world around Romain, but by keeping the point of view from Romain, and eventually two other characters who took the same drug, you are never quite sure what is real and what is hallucination.
The cast turns in a wonderful performance of self-doubt, fear and raw emotion. The score by Nathaniel Méchaly amplifies the sense of urgency, infusing each moment with an unsettling rhythm that propels the action forward. It perfectly complements the film’s frenetic pace, enhancing the visceral experience as Romain and the others grapple with the night’s escalating horrors.
If you are looking for a visceral nightmare of a film… then you will want to go MadS.
— Filmmaker Mixer