Vivement Dimance! (1983)

This French film known by its English titles as "Finally Sunday" or "Confidentially Yours" was director Francois Truffaut's last shout, and not really a high point of his illustrious career.  Presumably conceived as a pastiche homage to the film noir genre, it is even shot in black and white with no great distinction.  Jean-Louis Trintignant plays an estate agent suspected of the murder of his wife's lover, the first of a run of murders which the cops would like to lay at his door, but it is pretty clear from get-go that he is not our killer.  It is down to his recently fired secretary-cum-Girl-Friday, sparklingly played by Fanny Ardant to track down the real culprit (whose identity is hardly a big surprise).  Trintignant is so laid-back and feeble in this role that one wonders at his casting, despite his long history with Truffaut; Ardant, however, just about makes the movie watchable.  It is all, in the end, extremely silly and uninvolving, and hardly the Hitchcock tribute that some critics read into it. 

The Man (2005)

I had no great expectations for this film since Samuel L. Jackson tends to play the Samuel L. Jackson persona in every film and Eugene Levy seems to get less amusing with each movie.  I was therefore pleasantly surprised by what mindless fun it was -- and at roughly 80 minutes, it never overstayed its welcome.  Jackson plays a free-wheeling special agent out to avenge his partner's murder by finding a cache of stolen guns and Levy is the dental equipment salesman who is mistaken as the potential buyer by the (English) baddies.  Their chemistry together is surprising good as Levy moves from being Mr. Joe Schmo to being a take-charge character, while Jackson shows a broader string to his bow.  OK, it wasn't consistently hilarious by any means and did have its share of violence, but as an amusing if unmemorable outing, I have to give it high marks.

The Holy Mountain (1926)

This is not the Jodorowsky cult pic of the same title, but a German silent which has its own place in cinema history.  Back in the late 20s/early 30s, the Germans thrilled to a series of mountain-climbing movies of which this is one of the first.  While it would be notable in itself for the spectacular photography, its real claim to treasured-status is as an early starring role for Leni Riefenstahl, later known as the "Fuhrer's Filmmaker", infamous for her Nuremburg and Olympics documentaries -- both brilliant in their perverseness.  Here she plays a dancer who is loved by two mountain-climbing friends;  when the elder believes (incorrectly) that she is dallying with the younger, the pair go off on an impossible climb in inclement weather.   The mountains have a mystical meaning here as some sort of metaphor for friendship and loyalty which adds to the weird but dated feel of the story.  Incidentally Riefenstahl, who is no beauty, dances only slightly more appealingly than a pregnant hippopotamus (or maybe that's being just a little bit unkind) and we are treated to an inordinate number of her performances.

War of the Worlds (2005)

Last year's big summer blockbuster provides ample evidence of director Spielberg's technique, but is emotionally a busted flush.  The special effects of aliens and their tripods attacking the world and destroying our population to provide fodder for their own food crop is spectacular and terrifying, but the human element is unfortunately vested in Tom Cruise's deadbeat Dad, whose two children have been left with him for the nonce by his divorced wife, now remarried and pregnant and off to visit family.  While Cruise no doubt views himself as a heroic figure in today's cinema, he spends most of the movie on the run -- scared to death as most of us would be -- and only somewhat belatedly eager to protect his kids.  His ultimate survival, ignoring his having become a murderer in the process, and the final reuniting of the complete family defies belief -- but he is Tom Cruise after all.  While, in a way, it is nifty to observe the action effectively through one pair of eyes, this technique does drag things down to a crawl at times and I for one craved the broader picture.  Despite the elements of the tale now being familiar to us from countless other "invasion" flicks, this is only the second film version of Wells' book.  The first was back in 1953 and is fondly remembered 'though, truth to tell, it is a little primitive by modern standards.  The leads of that film, Gene Barry and Ann Robinson, have a small cameo in this one as a footnote to movie history.

36 (2004)

The full title of this French film is 36 Quai des Orfevres which is the address of the Criminal Investigations Division in Paris, the equivalent of Scotland Yard, and it is one truly terrific policier.  Starring Daniel Auteuil and Gerard Depardieu as detectives and former friends who are both seeking the top job on the retirement of their immediate superior,  it has been implied that whichever of them captures the crims who have perpetrated a series of bloody security vehicle holdups over the last year will be the victor.  Auteuil is the rogue cop who with his faithful team will flirt with unethical methods to achieve his ends, whilst Depardieu who appears to work through the system is, if anything, even more unethical in his scheming.  When Auteuil has the villains within his grasp, Depardieu compromises the operation, which results in the death of a popular member of Auteuil's team.  To avoid allowing the latter to testify against him in the hearing to follow, Despardieu uncovers evidence which lands Auteuil in pokey for seven years and is even responsible for the death of Auteuil's wife, Valeria Golino, with whom he shares some past undisclosed history.  Depardieu achieves his goal in the short term, but eventually the past catches up in a totally unexpected but satisfying way.  Good stuff!

L'Auberge Espagnole (Pot Luck) 2002

People seem to think highly of this French euro-pudding of a film, but perhaps its pictures of student life rang more bells with them than they did with me.  Rising actor Romain Duris has had some good press of late, but he plays such a little shit in this film that his story left me cold.  Advised to spend a year studying in Spain to further his ambitions for a government post, he goes to lovely Barcelona, leaving behind his hippy mom and his long-term squeeze, Audrey Tatou.  We are shown the troubles he has finding somewhere suitable to live before ending up sharing with a mixed bunch of sexes, orientations, and nationalities.  (Much of the dialogue is per force in broken English, since the flatmates have varying fluency in Spanish and little knowledge of the other tongues).   He begins an affair with the lonely wife of a doctor who has been kind to him, while still stringing Tatou along, and generally embraces the carefree student life; apart some complaints about the lectures being in Catalan rather than Castilian, his school hours are just about irrelevant to the rather thin plot.  However on his return to France and the coveted job, he runs away from any such adult responsibility to embrace the "freedom" of a writer's life, one way of recreating his easygoing student days.  I felt like shouting "grow up".  The only thing in  favour of this movie from my point of view is that it ran 20 minutes shorter than it said on the DVD case! 

Malefique (2002)

The good folk who organise the FrightFests that I attend (although I must admit to missing their most recent all-nighter -- I'm getting past that sort of thing) have started their own DVD label to offer worthwhile movies which might not see the light of day elsewhere.  This French film, the first feature from director Eric Valette, is a worthy case in point and a movie that I am pleased to have discovered through their efforts.  It concerns four cellmates: a businessman shopped for fraud by his untrustworthy wife, an elderly literary type who has indeed killed his wife, a tough butch transvestite whose crime is not detailed, and a simpleton raised with pigs on a farm who has literally eaten his six-month old baby sister.  They discover a book hidden in the walls of their cell by a previous inmate who has somehow tapped black magic to effect an escape.  They try to understand its mysteries with unexpected results.  The idiot who attempts to eat the book is destroyed by it, as it seeks to protect itself; the other three after a visit by a mysterious new cellmate think they have discovered the secret, only to end up in a new and grimmer cell.  Ultimately they come to understand the book's real power which comes as something of a surprise to both the characters and the viewer.  Filmed on a small budget with actors unknown to me (all of whom were absolutely first-rate), this movie achieves its chills effectively.

In Memoriam:  R.I.P. Robert Altman.  Regular readers of this journal may recall that this director was a firm favourite of mine and that "Nashville" will always figure in my ever-changing top ten.  His influences on movie-making -- ensemble casts, overlapping stories and dialogue -- are indelible.  Yes, his output was madly inconsistent with some critical duds amongst the gems, but I never found any of his films uninteresting and the best of them will stand as his memorial, hopefully forever. 

Jigoku (1960)

This was my third visit to the Wild Japan season at the NFT and a more schizophrenic film I have yet to see.  Although recently released onto DVD in the States, this movie has long been regarded as a lost classic from director Nobuo Nakagawa, a horror specialist.  Unfortunately it is not quite the gem I was expecting, although not without interest.  The title translates as "Hell" and the movie falls into two related but discrete halves.  In the first part, a happily engaged student sees his life collapse under the influence of a mysterious colleague who involves him in a hit-and-run crime.  Then, by a series of unlikely coincidences and catastrophes, he and vitually every other of the numerous characters ends up dead.  The film now moves into its second half which recreates the Buddhist view of the eight circles of hell in gaudy colour and lurid images.  It takes the line that we are all sinners and even so-called innocents, which includes children who die before their parents and unborn babies, must suffer eternal damnation.  The schizophrenia stems from the rather draggy first half morphing into the phantasmagoric second half without blinking.

I don't know whether I'm getting fed up with blogging -- I certainly used to churn out more reviews per week -- or whether there seem to be a growing number of movies that I have no inclination to cover.  Some examples from the last few days: "Deuce Bigelow: European Gigolo" with the embarrassing Rob Schneider pushing the boundaries of good taste to bursting point and with respected Dutch actor Jeroen Krabbe slumming for a pay cheque.  Then there was"The Constant Gardener", about as worthy a film as you could hope to view about illegal drug tests in Africa, but one that seemed to be hitting the viewer over the head with its message.  I know Rachel Weisz won a best supporting Oscar for her role in this, but I was in no way inspired by or in awe of her performance.

Lord of War (2005)

However you slice it, I do believe that Nicolas Cage has been one very lucky actor.  Far from being a conventionally good-looking lead, he manages to attract starring roles.  I have nothing particularly negative to say about his skills as an actor, despite his occasional blatant miscasting (Captain Corelli springs to mind), but his acting chops do not strike me as being top of the class, just better than average.  So like I say, he has been lucky.  In this film he plays Yuri, the son of Ukrainian immigrants living in Brooklyn's Little Odessa, who early on gets seduced by the potential richness of the arms-dealing life -- and he is very good at it.  He does not attempt to justify the ends which his weapons provide nor does he try to adapt a holier-than-thou approach despite the violence he encounters; it's just business to him and a means of supporting his wife and son.  The moral antitheses are provided by his more sensitive brother, Jared Leto, and an interpol agent who is trying to nail him, played by a smug Ethan Hawke.  I suppose it could be said that Cage gives a powerful performance, but the really scary moral coda is that dealers like him are but a drop in the bucket; the main providers of arms to the world are the seven nations that sit on the UN Security Council!

Manderlay (2005)

I've really liked a number of mischievious Danish director Lars von Trier's works, but found myself struggling with "Dogville" (2003), the first part of a proposed American trilogy of which this movie is part two.  Well that film was a doddle in comparison, as huge chunks of "Manderlay" are ponderously unwatchable.  Despite this, the overall feeling at the end is that one has seen something worthwhile, despite ones reservations.  Part of the problem is that Bryce Dallas Howard, a very mumbly actress, has taken over from Nicole Kidman in the lead role and her papa is also now a different actor.  Yet much of the cast from the first movie appear in the second as completely different characters, which is also confusing.  The story concerns the heroine's blundering into a feudal situation at a Southern plantation where slavery is still the norm and trying in her do-goodish way to "free" the slaves.  That she only manages to create chaos is pure Von Trier.  The director has never visited the States and has been accused of blatant anti-Americanism in both films.  There is indeed much in this movie to upset the average American viewer, especially since the heroine lusts after their bodies, but there is also a strong case for blacks and the problems that they face.  I shudder to think what the third part of this trilogy will bring. 

Man Dancin' (2003) & The Business (2005)

I always force myself to watch British gangster flicks on the grounds that it is part of my continuing education, but since I seldom enjoy them, you might say that it is part of the penance that I pay for my obsession with movies.  These two, neither of which are outstanding, are a good case in point.  The first presented a oft-incurred problem with this genre: inpenetrable accents -- but at least I could rely on subtitles to follow the story set in Glasgow.  The lead was played by Alex Ferns, an actor from television, as a released-after-nine-years con who tries to withstand the temptations of his old gangster life, particularly hoping to move away after his probation to save his younger brother from the same easy option.  But Mr. Big (James Cosmo -- he always seems to play such roles) still considers him one of "his boys" and won't let go.  Ferns finds a kind of salvation, after rescuing several girls from prostitution, in the neighbourhood church's nativity play, which he rewrites to reflect local and modern politics.  Cosmo puts pressure on the tame detective who is on his payroll to teach Ferns a lesson, but his various efforts backfire (including killing off the one really likeable character) before the disastrous yet presumably uplifting finale. 

"The Business" was a far more conventional Britflick starring Danny Dyer as a would-be mobster who runs an errand to the Costa del Sol where he is taken up as a protege of the local big man, played interestingly enough by Tamer Hassan (whom I assume comes from an ethnic background).  The movie is set in the '80s and they are involved in drug-running, initially pot from Morocco but later cocaine from Columbia.  Dyer finds himself more and more seduced by the easy riches and available sex, until the whole gang comes a cropper by falling foul of the local mayor.  Dyer is by now totally immoral and works out a plan to extricate himself; the whole movie seems set up for the amusing but ultimately bad pun on his future during the end titles, where the fate of each main character is revealed.

By and large I probably prefered the first of these two because of its less usual storyline, but the second was probably the better-made film.  However I doubt that either movie made much impact at the UK box office and they would stand little chance of success elsewhere.  Yet people keep churning out films like these two -- where does the finance come from?  

Tube (2003)

If we lived in a country that didn't turn its nose up at subtitled movies or if we could (God forbid) accept dubbed movies, I really believe that Korean cinema would be replacing Hollywood movies in our affections.  This first feature by director Baek Woon-Huk really outdoes the Hollywood product in its violence, professionalism and fancy visuals.  While he possibly took his cue from a film like "Speed" or his fearless single-handed cop hero from the "Die Hard" series, the director has turned out something quite exciting and different.  After an airport massacre, a rogue agent seeks revenge on his former masters and hijacks a modernistic subway train packed with high officials and innocent passengers.  Despite the high-tech control-room resources, only one lone cop can stop the train and save the day, despite some help from the young pickpocket who fancies him.  But unlike what we would expect from an American movie, his survival is far from a sure thing.

Hausu (House) (1977)

This was the second of the films I chose from the NFT's Wild Japan series and while I can certainly report that the movie was indeed wild, I would be hard-pressed to write that it was good as well.  In a plot familiar to us from (much later) Western films, a group of innocent schoolgirls go for a holiday at their friend's aunt's house in the countryside and are one by one devoured by the house.  The aunt is in fact dead and survives through her sexual frustration which eats virgins -- or something like that.  While the plot itself is slow to develop and not just a little confusing with some occasionally unrelated scenes, the presentation is what makes this movie unique.  This was the director Nobuhiko Obayashi's first film and I understand that he is something of a cult figure in his native country.  Made well before the availability of computer-generated effects, he employs a mixture of double exposures, cell animation, stop-motion animation, split screens, fast and slow motion -- you name it, it is part of his potpourri in achieving his spooky images, most notable of which is one of the girls being consumed by a grand piano.  Combined with dancing skeletons, twinkly-eyed malevolent cats, and an infectious tinkly score, this film is certainly one of a kind.  But I still can't write that it was good or even particularly scary. 

3-Iron (2004)

This was an absolutely amazing film and not at all what I expected from the little I knew about it in advance.  I have seen two of the Korean director Kim Ki-duk's earlier films "The Isle" and "Spring, Summer...", both unusual and beautifully filmed, but completely unlike this one.  The story concerns a young drifter who has a way of determining when houses or flats are likely to be unoccupied and who breaks in to live in these for a day or two, usually doing some small service like washing dirty laundry or mending broken clocks as an exchange.  At one mansion he is observed by a battered wife who eventually lets her presence be known.  When her abusive husband returns, our young hero deals with him with the golf club of the title and the lady leaves with him, joining him in his precarious way of life.  Eventually the police catch up with them -- he is thrown in gaol, she returns home.  But gaol is no prison for a free spirit and the young man keeps taunting his guards who threaten him with more and more and presumably fatal violence.  However his spirit returns to the places he has been before and ultimately to the home where he found true love.  Like Scorpion reviewed below, he has absolutely no dialogue and the wife speaks only once in the entire film, but so much is expressed between them in non-verbal ways.  The golf club motif returns, not only as a tool for violence by the husband as well, but as a skill which our hero thinks he can control, but which can backfire when least expected.   Very highly recommended. 

Unconditional Love (2002)

Occasionally it is brought home to me that I don't know as much about movies as I think I do, since I frankly had never even heard of this film, despite a cast boasting among others Kathy Bates, Rupert Everett, Jonathan Pryce, Dan Aykroyd, Lynn Redgrave, Julie Andrews, Barry Manilow, and a rather attractive female dwarf!  Perhaps it is because it never had a cinema release, eventually debuted on US Cable TV, and made its first UK appearance in a late night television slot.  But it was a hoot...   It is the sort of quirky film that would probably alienate many viewers, but the sort of high-flown nonsense that really amuses me.  Bates is a frumpy housewife whose husband leaves her to seek a more adventurous way of life, but it is she who has a number of adventures after she decides to travel to England for the funeral of her favourite (murdered) singer (Pryce).  There she meets his not-so secret gay lover (Everett) who returns with her to Chicago to hunt down "the crossbow murderer".  Assisted by her dwarf daughter-in-law, donning the red oilskin of the pyschotic killer from "Don't Look Now", their misadventures are hilarious.  Julie Andrews, playing herself, has two of the best bits of business in demonstrating how best to overcome a crisis (get everyone singing).  It probably is far from a great film given its cinematic failure, but it is certainly one to tickle the funnybone.   

Female Convict Scorpion: Jailhouse 41 (1972)

The National Film Theatre is currently running a series labelled 'Wild Japan: Outlaw Masters of Japanese Film' featuring a range of cult items from the 60s and 70s that prior to DVD have remained virtually unknown on these shores and which have never previously received theatrical showings.  I have booked for four of the series (I could easily have opted for more if I could have faced traipsing to and from the South Bank with more frequency) and the above film is the first of those that I will be covering over the coming weeks.

This one is in fact the second of four movies in the Female Convict Scorpion series based on an adult 'women in prison' manga of the time.  While I have not seen the first, this entry stands on its own feet and was spectacularly true to its comic book roots.  Our heroine, who was originally innocent when sent down, has been abused by the guards and warden of the prison where she has been kept in isolation underground.  Her quest is revenge and after a gang bang rape scene staged by the wicked warden, she escapes with six other prisoners.  The balance of the movie follows them as they plough through the surreal countryside, revealing their various crimes (all of which were engendered by men) and their attempt to stay free, without any inter-prisoner loyalty, against impossible odds.  The movie is exceptionally violent as men are made to suffer for their sins or indeed for just being men, but it is filmed with an impossible beauty and dreamy quality which is at times at odds with the sordid subject matter.  Our heroine Matsu, also called Scorpion, was played by Meiko Kaji in all four films; she is forceful and determined, but hard to read, and in the entire movie she had but two short lines of dialogue.

If the remaining three films succeed in sharing this one's energy and passion, I am in for a very rare treat.

 

The pick of the rest

I watch so many movies that never make it to these pages -- most of which probably weren't worth my time in the first place, but still I persevere.  I have seen several over the last few days which are worth commenting upon, if not in any depth:

Dracula (1979): I hadn't watched this one for a while and wanted to revisit Frank Langella's romantic take on the fangy count fresh from his Broadway triumph.   Gosh, he was pretty once upon a time but the movie was utter tosh.  Filmed in dismal greys with brilliant reds at the relevant heights of passion, it was a complete mishmash of accents and hammy acting -- and the worst culprit by far was good old Laurence Olivier in the Van Helsing role.  Parenthetically I saw Guy Maddin's "Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary" not that long ago which is a far more interesting take on the oft-filmed story.

Comancheros (1961):  Not vintage John Wayne by a long chalk but still good violent fun in the West.  Oddly enough it was director Michael Curtiz's last film and while he is remembered as a woman's director, he did a fine job with this mainly male cast.  Wayne's Texas Ranger is paired with gambler-on-the-run Stuart Whitman and there is a memorable bit part for Lee Marvin as a partially-scalped gunrunner (with one of the worse make-up jobs ever).  The stirring Elmer Bernstein score is another asset.

Love and Human Remains (1993):  I only knew the films which Canadian director Denys Arcand has made in French (and very accomplished they are too), so this English-language movie was new to me.  Like his other films it is an ensemble piece, here dealing with various aspects of love and sexuality -- straight or gay or kinky or mixed -- and it had much to say about how complicated our emotions can be.  The background serial killer story wasn't a complete red herring, but the film would have been just as successful without it. 

Cinderella Man (2005)

Although there have been some really terrific boxing movies over the years, I always surprise myself that I can like any of them, since the idea of two men beating each other to a pulp is not really my idea of entertainment.  This film by Ron Howard, a director who has always struck me as a very competent hack, is amazingly well done and involving.  In his second teaming with Russell Crowe -- an excellent actor but a hard-to-take personality, Howard tells the true story of James Braddock, a washed-up fighter who made an amazing comeback to take the heavyweight world title in the l930s.  The film has a lot in common with the racing movie "Seabiscuit" where an underdog proves an inspiration for the man in the street.  Set at the height of the Depression, Braddock could barely support his family and had lost his license to fight through various injuries and lacklustre performances.  His regeneration which started only as a much-needed moneymaking exercise was dramatically and movingly told.  I didn't think much of Renee Zellweger as the faithful wife frantic to keep her family together, but Paul Giamatti as Braddock's manager was absolutely superb, and, credit where it is due, Crowe was also great.  Yes, if you ask me objectively, I hate boxing movies, but this film joins the growing exceptions to that rule.

Breaking and Entering (2006)

This film was one of the gala showings at the recent Film Festival, but I caught up with it at a preview showing before its general release this week.  The ads scream that Jude Law gives the performance of his career, but don't you believe it; he comes across as vacuous and unsympathetic as usual.  He plays an architect working on the redevelopment of the Kings Cross area with swish offices in the area which act as a magnet for a bunch of Serbian thieves who keep stealing all his high-tech gear.  He is in a long-term relationship with half-Swedish Robin Wright Penn who won't marry him and who devotes most of her time to her difficult autistic 13-year daughter.  Staking out his office, he spots the young thief whose acrobatic skills afford entry for the gang, follows him home, and soon is involved emotionally and physically with the boy's Bosnian mother, played by Juliette Binoche.  While both female leads are very good indeed, Law does not really shine in their reflected light.  This was his third project with writer-director Anthony Minghella who must see something in him that I am missing; however I must also blame Minghella for the poor pacing and the rather contrived plot which attempts to provide some sort of redemption for all of the main characters and which totally stretches belief. 

The King and the Clown (2005)

This Korean historical piece was meant to be the first film viewed at the just- ended London Film Festival, but as noted elsewhere, the showing was cancelled.  Anyhow they did manage to obtain a print eventually, and I am more than pleased to have now seen it.  I don't quite agree with Michael that it was the best of the eight films we saw (not that I quite know which I would put in first place), but it was certainly magnificent in acting, colour, and composition.  I understand that it is the most successful movie ever with Korean audiences, which is a little surprising since a period film set at the start of the Sixteenth Century does not necessarily conjure up the notion of mass appeal.  But there you have it.

The story concerns two street performers -- an older man, Jang-sang. and his young and rather effeminate friend, Gong-gil.  When they leave the countryside to try their luck in Seoul after the troupe's manager tries to pimp the favours of the younger man, they join up with three lowly actors.  Surprisingly their new act which is a rather bawdy spoof on the new (and somewhat unstable) king and his mistress is a popular hit, but they are soon arrested for blasphemy.  In prison Jang-sang argues that they should not be punished for a show that the King has not seen and that they should be freed if they are able to make him laugh which of course they do.  Now under the King's protection they remain at the palace where they spoof the King's Council, advisors, and the old King's courtesans.  However the King is becoming more and more attached to pretty Gong-gil, much to his mistress' annoyance and to Jang-sang's distress, and is oblivious to the rumbles of rebellion afoot.  These bare bones only suggest the main theme of the film which is the deep affection, nay love, between the two lead characters, but a love which is never physically realised.  And while others try to drive a wedge between them in the most brutal way, this bond can not be destroyed. 

Lunacy (2005)

I have always been a big, big fan of the Czech animator/writer/director Jan Svankmajer ever since I first saw his version of the Alice in Wonderland story from 1988.  Subsequently I have sought out his short animations and have really been very taken with his full-length features "Faust", "Conspirators of Pleasure", and "Little Otik".  However, one unhappy result of this year's London Film Festival has been to put me off some of my favourites.  I have written below about Aki Kaurismaki and this latest feature from Svankmajer was so black and disturbing that I would need to think twice before wanting to view it again.  Perhaps as one grows older and this great talent is now 72, one grows more cynical and pessimistic about the world in which we live.  The film begins with a voiceover introduction from the director himself, explaining that we are about to view a horror film, inspired by the works of Edgar Allen Poe and the Marquis de Sade, and references to both, but particularly the latter are discernible throughout the film.  However this is not a horror film in the traditional sense, but rather a philosophical exposition of how the madness in our world can only be dealt with by brutal force.

The two main characters are a rather simple young man whose mother has just died in the insane asylum at Charenton and who has nightmares about being locked away himself and another more worldly man, referred to only as the Marquis.  While we appear to be in the modern world, the Marquis seems backdated to another period -- in his dress, his courtly manner on the surface, and the fact that he gets about in a horse-drawn carriage in the same time and space as buses and motorcars.  The gist of the tale is about the lunatics taking over the asylum until by the end we can no longer tell just who are the madmen and which, if any, of the characters are sane.  This is punctuated throughout by the most disturbing animations of fast-moving, encroaching meat and animal tongues that I have ever seen; it was seriously disturbing enough to turn one into a vegetarian.  I don't know quite what Svankmajer was saying here, except to suggest that we are all nothing more than meat to be ground up and spit out by the modern world.  But whatever, it was dead upsetting and depressing.