Ennio and Simone are passionate people, survivors from the '80s in a spiritless new millennium. Simone drinks to dull the pain of her unfulfilled existence. Her daughter is giving her the cold shoulder, so she takes refuge in '80s nostalgia, and in her passion for ancient Egypt. Ennio is clinging to his old video stock. He is a collector and smalltime dealer of VHS at a time when people are already moving on from DVD. He loves giallo, '70s Italian slasher films. Picking-up a rarity advertised by Simone, who is clearing her shelves, he has the chance to sell it to a mysterious collector for a small fortune, and get out from under his debts. But then, much like Simone's distant daughter, his mint condition VHS tape disappears without trace.
What Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch and High Fidelity did for sports and music fanatics, Videoman does for moviehounds. Like Hornby's heroes, Ennio needs to face up to changing times, but maybe he can still stay true to his principals without selling out? Simone likewise needs to stop propping herself up with booze and walk confidently towards a better future. Can they find their path together, or will their disappointed-positivity get in the way?
Videoman is an offbeat charmer, a comedy with a razor-sharp edge. Like a giallo flick it may lull you into a false state of security, only to launch a surprise out of the shadows. It's a bit funny, a bit depressed, a bit insightful, a bit stupid, a bit grisly. Ennio is, after all, immersed in slasher and T&A movies. Both he and Simone want respect, with little chance receiving any, except from each other. Their relationship is more mutually confessional than that provided to the geeky heroes of the aforementioned Hornby stories by their girlfriends. Videoman takes place in a twilit world full of repressed emotions, emotions that need to burst out. Sweden.
Much like Ennio's giallo classics, Videoman is likely to be a connoisseur's favourite, not a party piece, not a crowd pleaser. But it has a lot of charm, especially for anyone who remembers the '80s and VHS tapes.
What Nick Hornby's Fever Pitch and High Fidelity did for sports and music fanatics, Videoman does for moviehounds. Like Hornby's heroes, Ennio needs to face up to changing times, but maybe he can still stay true to his principals without selling out? Simone likewise needs to stop propping herself up with booze and walk confidently towards a better future. Can they find their path together, or will their disappointed-positivity get in the way?
Videoman is an offbeat charmer, a comedy with a razor-sharp edge. Like a giallo flick it may lull you into a false state of security, only to launch a surprise out of the shadows. It's a bit funny, a bit depressed, a bit insightful, a bit stupid, a bit grisly. Ennio is, after all, immersed in slasher and T&A movies. Both he and Simone want respect, with little chance receiving any, except from each other. Their relationship is more mutually confessional than that provided to the geeky heroes of the aforementioned Hornby stories by their girlfriends. Videoman takes place in a twilit world full of repressed emotions, emotions that need to burst out. Sweden.
Much like Ennio's giallo classics, Videoman is likely to be a connoisseur's favourite, not a party piece, not a crowd pleaser. But it has a lot of charm, especially for anyone who remembers the '80s and VHS tapes.