It may take more than an hour for the audience to get into the headspace of director Julia Ducournau’s protagonist, or, I should say, antagonist. The film’s world-building and inner logic initially put the movie at arm’s length from viewers, who are likely to be repelled or at least perplexed by the senseless series of killings that dominate much of the first 30 minutes. Ducournau (Raw) dares you to look away.

But through beating after beating, a heartbeat emerges, slowly and quietly. Though the storytelling is too blood-splattered and blunt to be considered conventional, the film ultimately becomes, incredibly, a bit sentimental and old-fashioned once the fists are unclenched and the weapons put down.

This is a communal viewing experience—expect to hear groans from the audience as Alexia (a go-for-broke Agathe Rousselle in her film debut) tears through and lowers the population of the South of France. Ducournau has come up with a female character who eschews empathy and acts impulsively and destructively as any man-child who has ever rampaged on screen. Maybe Alexia was born that way, or so it is implied in the prologue, a pungent set piece in which Alexia, as a girl with a stern disposition, has a fight with her father in the car that leads to a crash. As a result, her skull has been reconstructed with a plate made of titanium, hence the French title.

Now an adult, Alexia has a visible scar above her right ear, which she doesn’t hide but flaunts as a bleached-blonde, lithe, punkish erotic dancer in a one-of-a-kind of auto show. (Isn’t Alexia a car brand? Hmm.) She definitely gives off look-but-don’t-touch vibes. In fact, the first on-screen casualty is an intrusive fanboy who doesn’t take the hint that she really wants to be left alone.

She briefly lowers her guard when she hooks up with a woman, a fellow dancer at the auto show. Among many indelible moments, the movie features a cringy meet-cute: while the two shower together backstage, Alexia’s hair is caught in the other’s nipple ring. When it comes to killing, however, Alexia really has no preference: she’ll kill anybody if she feels she has to.

Even if what takes place doesn’t at all make sense, the barrage of action is nothing short of compelling. Titane plays by its own rules. Don’t ask me to explain how Alexia finds herself in the family way and on the run. (If you’ve ever seen Demon Seed, where Julie Christie is impregnated by a computer, you might have an idea.)

Like Alexia, the film challenges you to watch, and yes, it’s difficult to at times. One question viewers may wonder: Is the director trying too hard to shock? Do we have to hear every bone crunch? (The sound design emphasizes every whack and every lick of the tongue.) Probably not, but watching this is intentionally a visceral experience. Rest assured though; the director has a mission. Believe it or not, exactly what her narrative ultimately conveys might sound like an after-school special, and will likely become the subject of many a thesis.

To say that Alexia finds some sort of redemption is to cut to the chase. In the second half, where Ducournau has more surprises up her sleeve, the tone shifts radically but smoothly. Alexia remains a mystery, with more layers to reveal once Vincent, played by Vincent Lindon, enters the picture. Often portraying the French everyman, Lindon gained muscle for the role of a firehouse chief and leans toward his machismo side—the fireman’s on steroids. This is not the sensitive Lindon of The Measure of a Man. No sad puppy eyes here.

Titane’s win of the top prize at the Cannes Film Festival this summer has been seen as a possible game changer. (Didn’t they say the same thing about Quentin Tarantino’s win for Pulp Fiction in 1994?) Time will tell. It certainly shatters the image of Cannes as a stereotypical haven for slow, art-house cinema. It also may help shed the cliché that all French films are about talk, talk, talk. It also won the People’s Choice Midnight Madness Award at this year’s Toronto International Film Festival, and it is the most all-around, cohesive film I’ve seen in that programming section.

One thing for sure, when watching Titane, you never know where it’s heading.

Titane opens theatrically in the United States on October 1.