They descended upon earth
to strengthen their ranks. —opening
inner title sequence
Van Warmerdam continues his obsession with surreal black
comedies that border on the absurd, where this one assumes near comic book proportions
as it is essentially a politely told extra-terrestrial earth invasion movie, told
with a deadpan humor and a playful spirit that borders on the ridiculous, where
one wonders how this was chosen among the elite films to premiere in
competition at Cannes, the first Dutch film in 38 years to do so. Playing out more like a bedtime story for
adults, though it has a captivating, near hypnotic effect on children, the
story concerns oddball characters that we might find in a Kaurismäki movie,
including the director himself who plays one of the intrusive “visitors.” Earth is apparently under siege by strange
and eccentric characters that we initially see sleeping underground, but at
present there are only a handful of them, and only a few know about them, as
they’re able to move undetected among earth’s population by disguising
themselves as ordinary humans, often dressed in snappy suits. Much like Yorgos Lanthimos’s acclaimed
DOGTOOTH (2009), this film has a vernacular and story logic all its own, but
many will be hard pressed to make anything out if it. A cult film even upon its release, it likely
falls into the acquired taste category, as its zany horror antics grow tiresome
and nonsensical after awhile. While it
may be some sort of commentary on the evils of the bourgeois upper class
society, who have all presumably lost their souls, this film suggests there are
many laying in wait to inhabit the emptiness left behind. “There’s something surrounding us. It slips
inside now and then,” a worried wife tells her husband, as if the forces of
evil are already upon them, but only unleashed a bit at a time so as not to
arouse suspicion.
The opening has an almost medieval feel to it, as we see a
man swallowing whole a jar of pickled fish before heading off into battle, led
by a determinedly solemn, axe-wielding priest, as they storm through the
forests giving chase to spirits or demons or subterranean creatures that
communicate by cell phones. Camiel Borgman
(Jan Bijvoet), a beady-eyed wretch of a monster with straggly hair and a sunken
face that makes it look like he could be hundreds of years old, is the leader
who has to warn all the others who apparently have their phones on sleep mode,
unearthing their underground lairs with his own axe while leading them to
safety, where they all escape. Still
encrusted with dirt, he finds himself in the affluence of suburbia ringing
doorbells asking if he can take a bath, where the overall impression he makes
is not very inviting, getting kicked senseless by one offended resident, Richard
(Jeroen Perceval), who apparently speaks for the entire community. However later that evening when Richard is
away, the apologetic wife Marina (Hadewych Minis), apparently shamed by her
husband’s behavior, invites him in and offers him food and shelter, so long as
he keeps out of sight of her husband, where her sheer goodness opens the door
for eventual calamity. The family also
consists of three television engrossed children and a lethargic Danish nanny
that already appears hypnotized. While
the story concerns the strange and hypnotic powers of the otherworld, Marina’s
constant state of flux, secret attraction to Borgman, and overall instability
carry the emotional weight of the film, where we often wonder if she’s one of
them, as she’s continually making things easier for them. Quickly ridding the family of their gardener,
Borgman gets a hair trim and a shave and quickly takes his place, bringing in a
few accomplices that live in a utility shed in the back. In no time, they’ve converted this architecturally
impressive suburban home to their home base of operations, often assuming the
shape of hounds, while hypnotizing women and children.
The director himself plays one of Borgman’s many helpers
(Ludwig), all of whom look like members of the Leningrad
Cowboys, who happen to be a satiric invention of Aki Kaurismäki, eventually
becoming an internationally acclaimed Finnish rock band that continues even
today to tour the world. If only they
were that much fun, as whatever enjoyment the viewers might initially have with
this madcap group of eccentrics quickly wears thin when we discover they’re
little more than a group of professional assassins, an intergalactic mafia,
where we see a collection of bodies accumulating at the bottom of the lake,
faces head down in a pile of cement, feet dangling upwards, swaying with the
current. So whatever silly antics we
thought we were enjoying is actually a sadistic group of supernatural killers
without a hint of remorse or human empathy.
Once this becomes inherently clear, all the silliness stops being
amusing, yet the absurd tone continues throughout till the end. In effect, this turns out to be an extended
version of a highly artificialized, yet thoroughly malicious Brothers Grimm Hansel and Gretel fairy tale, a
continuation on earlier themes that began with van Warmerdam’s particularly
gruesome earlier film GRIMM (2003). But
like that film, this one is also erratic, never really establishing a serious
overall theme, as sinister clues are everywhere, while certain developed
storylines go nowhere, and the subject never really connects or comes alive
with the audience. When Marina proclaims
“We are the fortunate, and the fortunate must be punished,” it’s like the
rallying cry opening the apocalyptic gates for ultimate destruction. With Richard adding his own voice, registering
that disaffected lack of concern that we find detestable about the One Percent,
“We’re from the West, it’s affluent.
That’s not our fault,” it feels overly simplistic and all too easy. This is a film for people with marginal
attention spans, which may be a reflection on our modern culture, as afterwards
it’s all nearly forgotten anyway except for the prevailing atmosphere of
weirdness. The descent from dark comedy
to depraved horror is a nasty twist designed for provocative effect, but feels
surprisingly empty.
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