Carax can say whatever he wants in his interviews, but this is obviously a film about cinema. It opens with the director himself waking up after a long slumber (this is his first feature film in 13 years) and finding out that cinema as he knew it has either died or fallen asleep. Then we are taken to some kind of dystopian world where actors are constantly in a hurry to perform different roles in front of invisible cameras, with huge limousines acting as the “holy” motors of cinema that move people from one life to another. One can be unsure about the purpose of playing a part for no audience, but all we can do is to keep going to honor the “beauty of the act”. Inadequacy and the inability to catch up with the digital age are recurrent themes in the film; even the limousines seem to fear being disposed of in a world where technology has to be invisible. While cinema used to be the most accomplished way to create new worlds, and actors had the privilege to become someone else, anyone can play different roles on the internet. Far-fetched interpretations aside, Denis Lavant’s stand-out performance and the wide variety of genres and atmospheres we manage to visit make “Holy Motors” a unique and engaging cinematic experience. It might feel a bit cold the first time, but will keep growing under your skin afterward. 
There are also tons of references to both the directors’ and the cast’s previous works: Denis Lavant reprises his role from “Tokyo”, Edith Scob wears a mask like in “Eyes Without a Face”, Wilkinson from “Bad Blood” gets mentioned, we get to see the now-gone Samaritaine department store from “Pont Neuf”, Kylie Minogue’s songs get played at parties, etc. Jean’s wig also looks dangerously similar to Jean Seberg in “Breathless”.

WTF did I just watch? This was the stupidest piece of "artistic" crap I've EVER seen.

I have an urge to eat flowers and bite fingers

Strange movie, I liked it a lot but I feel it's very personal, give it a try...

A dreamy journey into the consciousness of a human being. We are unable to distinguish the real from the fictional, and Carax plays with our expectations in a Lynchian way (e.g., the Club Silencio in Mullholand Drive). In the end, we are left with the possibility to connect emotionally with the various masks, a task I found hard, unfortunately.