Going in, I knew only that “Annette” has Adam Driver and Marion Cotillard in the lead roles. I can honestly say what happens after the movie starts was definitely not a trip I was expecting. Watching the film, you may feel a bit like you’ve revisited your college friend’s basement, where the smoky haze burns your eyes and lungs, but you inhale nonetheless and talk about “art” and existentialism. In other words, an experience that may or may not be your cup of tea.

So if you want to feel that kind of high, I guess stop reading, go watch it and come back to finish this review. But if you want to know what you’re getting yourself into, read on.

“Annette” oozes with symbolism in every frame, from use of color to Adam Driver’s hair length, that the main crux of self-destructive fame-chasing almost gets lost in it all, but hey, it’s artsy like that.

Written by Ron and Russell Mael (of the über-cool rock band Sparks) and directed by Leos Carax, who just won Best Director at Cannes for his work here.

The film as a whole is highly metatheatrical, complete with bookend musical numbers that first welcome the audience to the show (“So May We Start”) and then thank you for watching during the credits. Oh yeah, this is a musical, too, or more specifically, a tragic rock opera.

Where in traditional musicals characters talk until they can no longer express themselves without singing, here the characters seem to do the opposite, sing until they have no other choice but to talk and face their truths while at it. While it can take some getting used to, the flow eventually evens out.

The actual plot is pretty simple, a rough around the edges, shock-comedian Henry McHenry (Driver) is madly in love with world-renowned, genteel soprano Ann Defrasnoux (Cotillard). The two “love each other so much” as their repetitive song goes, and we see them entangle themselves in each other’s lives fully away from the public eye. They marry and eventually have a daughter Annette who, to the world of the film, is a real child, but to us, the viewers, is a real puppet.

We see Ann’s career continue to thrive as Henry’s begins to crash down around him, and with it he begins to destroy the life around him.

When a tragedy occurs, it’s revealed that Annette, now a toddler, can sing with a tonality eerily similar to her mother’s, so Henry decides to enlist Ann’s accompanist (Simon Helberg) to help him showcase (exploit) Annette’s talent to the world, allowing him to live within her spotlight. For a while at least.

All of the actors do mostly their own singing (Cotillard’s operatic moments are done by professional Catherine Trottmann) and sing it all mostly live instead of lip syncing to a prerecorded version of the songs, giving the film a less polished, more present feeling.

It’s already been well established that Driver and Cotillard have some pretty solid acting chops, and they tackle the difficult nature of singing live while involved in mundane and even incredibly intimate situations perfectly.

But the big surprise comes from Helberg, who buries any memories of his “Big Bang Theory” days during one specific scene between him and an orchestra. The whole scene, as with the rest of the film, is masterfully shot, and Helberg is fantastic.

It’s a baffling but beautiful movie that left me wondering at the end, “Did I actually like this?” At times, it felt like I was back at drama school listening to my hubristic friend tell me his latest concept for a play he wanted to write, but then at others, it felt completely special, like those brilliant plans cooked up in another friend’s smoky basement. And while “Annette” certainly may not hit the right notes for some, the melody of it lingers, which may make you want another hit.

“Annette”

141 minutes

Rated R for sexual content including some nudity, and for language.

3 stars