I don't think of my movies as provocative.

Gaspar Noé’s words, “I don’t think of my movies as provocative,” offer us a glimpse into the mind of an artist who, like many before him, dares to challenge the boundaries of traditional storytelling. At first glance, these words might seem like a rejection of the title "provocative" that often gets attached to his work, but beneath them lies a profound meditation on the nature of art itself. Noé’s statement speaks to the misunderstanding of his intent: he does not create to shock or disturb for the sake of disturbance, but rather to explore the depths of human experience in all its raw, unvarnished complexity. His work, though often labeled as provocative, is in reality a reflection of the world as he sees it—an exploration of the human condition, unflinching and uncompromising.

In the ancient world, the role of the artist—whether poet, sculptor, or philosopher—was to not simply entertain, but to reflect the truths of the world, no matter how unsettling they might be. Socrates, one of the greatest minds of antiquity, often spoke in ways that were considered provocative in his time. His questions and dialogues challenged the very foundations of Greek society, prompting others to examine their own beliefs and the world around them. Socrates did not set out to provoke, but rather to illuminate the deep and difficult truths that lay beneath the surface of everyday life. In this way, Noé’s films, while intense and sometimes jarring, seek to do the same—they are not provocations but invitations to look deeper into the truths of life that society often hides or avoids.

The ancient tragedians like Aeschylus and Sophocles were known for their bold and sometimes brutal portrayals of the human experience. Their works often depicted suffering, guilt, and fatalism in ways that challenged the moral and philosophical constructs of their time. They did not seek to provoke for its own sake, but to expose the tragic realities of life—those moments when the choices we make spiral into irreversible consequences. In a similar manner, Noé’s work does not exist to provoke empty shock but to engage audiences in a reflective dialogue about the darker aspects of human nature, such as desire, violence, and mortality. His films push us to confront the limits of our understanding, much like the ancient tragedies did.

One of the greatest and most important moments in the history of art came with the works of Michelangelo. His sculpture of David, for example, was considered highly provocative in its time, as it portrayed a Biblical hero in a way that was not only physically imposing but psychologically profound—David was shown in a moment of stillness and deep contemplation, before he faced the giant Goliath. This was not a traditional image of the warrior, but rather one that spoke to the inner turmoil and thoughts of heroism. Michelangelo, like Noé, did not seek to shock, but to reveal deeper truths about humanity—the emotional and intellectual battles that often precede physical action.

Noé, too, approaches his film with the aim of revealing something far deeper than surface-level spectacle. To label his work as merely provocative is to misunderstand the true intention of his art. He does not seek to merely stir discomfort for entertainment’s sake, but to disturb the viewer’s perceptions, to shake them out of complacency, and to confront the raw, painful truths of life. His films expose the underbelly of society—the darkness that we often keep hidden away from polite conversation. Rather than provoke for the sake of being shocking, Noé invites us to witness the complex, often troubling, realities of existence in all its emotional depth. In this way, his art is a form of revelation, not provocation.

The lesson that Noé imparts through his statement is one of intent over perception. Just as Socrates was misunderstood in his time, and Michelangelo was judged for his innovative portrayals, artists throughout history have faced resistance not because they sought to provoke but because they sought to expose the truths that others were too afraid to see. Art is not about shocking the audience; it is about awakening them to the depths of their own emotions, their own understanding, and the world around them. The true purpose of art is not provocation, but transformation—it asks us to see the world differently, to understand ourselves more fully, and to come face-to-face with the parts of the human experience that we might rather ignore.

In your own life, embrace the power of truth, even when it is uncomfortable. Do not shy away from the difficult questions or the truths that challenge your beliefs. Like the artists and philosophers before you, allow yourself to explore the complexity of human existence, even when it leads you into difficult and unsettling spaces. Seek art that does not simply affirm what you already know, but that forces you to question and reflect. In doing so, you will not only grow in your understanding but also learn to see the beauty in discomfort, the wisdom in struggle, and the depth in complexity. For it is only through such exploration that we come closer to the true nature of life, and to our place within it.