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The Beatles’ incantation of “Surrender to the void” sets the seductive tone for Adam Smith’s breathless Chemical Brothers concert film, where flurries of visuals and propulsive sounds offer an exhilaratingly immersive pull.
Lacking a frontman, the buoyantly buffeting beats duo mobilise maelstroms of compensations: strafing lasers, trippy backing films (butterflies blossom, businessmen groove), a set-list packed with peaks.
Cameras surf the bobbing heads of the Japanese festival crowd, zeroing in on tonsils exposed through mouths agape.
Some fantasy interludes prove distracting but the ecstatic experience of the Chems’ psychedelic spectacle is brought to thrilling life by Smith’s fluid, fizzing direction.
