It’s called challenging cinema

You could, if you wanted, split movie fans into two groups: those who watch movies solely for entertainment, and those who like to think about what they watch. But there’s a third group, too: those who entertain thmselves by thinking about the films they see.

That latter-most group is the one most likely to be drawn to Gaspar Noe’s “Irreversible,” a film by the Argentine-born French director known for studies of dark desires and darker deeds. His film 1998 “I Stand Alone” is a two-hour trek through the mind of a man whose very essence is rage toward everything and everyone around him.

“Irreversible” is the story of one day in the life of three people: a woman (Monica Bellucci) and the two men who love her (Vincent Cassel, Albert Duponel). Told backward, the movie begins with the two men being taken away by the police. It ends earlier that day, with the woman smiling after having learned something important about herself. In between, Noe, in two separate instances, gives us some of the most stomach-lurching looks at violence that have ever been filmed.

Critics across the country disagree forcefully about the worth of what Noe has done. Some call his film “unflinchingly honest.” Others call it a “gimmick.” Some even have walked out, which is understandable: Even the most callous among us would likely find “Irreversible” hard to sit through.

But Noe does have a serious intent. While he underscores his own anarchical attitudes a bit much (“Time destroys everything,” he trumpets at least twice), he shows how delicate life really is, how the slightest misstep can lead to serious, even tragic, consequences. And by telling his story back to front, he removes any sense of pandering while emphasizing the feeling of dread that we have as we watch events unfold, fully aware of what is to come and powerless to change anything.

“Irreversible” isn’t for everyone. It is as uncomfortable a viewing experience as I have ever seen. I literally stumbled out of the San Diego theater in which I saw it, stunned once again by a film director’s ability to take me somewhere I had never been. A full day later I remain haunted by the images that Noe shoved in my face. And as long as that feeling lasts, I won’t be able to ignore — as is my habit — the awful reality behind headlines of violent rape and sudden death.

In this time of impending war, it would be nice to think that such awareness could become contagious.