This is more of a riff, a ditty in between major projects. Supposedly born from a friend's own experience with a problematic plumber, Peter Weir's The Plumber is a television movie of awkward and dark humor, the sort of thing that Weir was obviously amenable to considering the humor of Homesdale and The Cars that Ate Paris, though this is a bit more successful than his two earlier attempts. I wonder if Weir, who also wrote the film, would have taken more time to craft the script, bringing together its different ideas more fully, if this had been a theatrical feature film instead of a television film.
At a university dorm for professors lives Dr. Brian Cowper (Robert Coleby) and his wife Jill (Judy Morris). Brian is a nutritionist with a potentially life-changing visit from WHO scientists to look at his research on New Guinean diet, and Jill is an anthropology masters student who has accompanied Brian on some of his journeys. Working alone in their dorm apartment one day, she greets the building's plumber, Max (Ivar Kants), who says he's there on a routine visit to just check the pipes. She lets him in, and he soon reveals that there's a problem with them. The pipes are too small, and he needs to replace them all.
This is the setup for Max to completely invade Jill's life in some kind of psycho-sexual terror campaign that drags on for days. The invasion of her home while she's trapped there with him puts her in the path of this guy with a mysterious, shifting past and propensity for, potentially, showering instead of investigating the pipes, creating this kind of potentially harmless but obviously implied threat that is meant to wear her down.
I think there's supposed to be this comparison or perhaps contrast between her investigative work of the New Guinean people and Max's visits, but it feels more like an idea thrown up without the real consideration that Weir was very capable of bringing to his films. There's something that could be an interesting supporting idea at play, but it feels so under-considered and under-utilized that it ultimately comes to nothing. Is Max's invasion of Jill's space the same as her sitting in her own tent in New Guinea and a local coming into the tent to yell at her for hours on end? Perhaps. What about her research in general? Is Weir comparing anthropological research to Max's invasion? I really don't know, but you can see the outline of what could have been an idea.
The other side of this is Brian's efforts to ingratiate himself to the WHO scientists looking at his research. He's distracted because his efforts aren't as intriguing to them as he had hoped, and he is more dismissive of Jill's concerns that he might otherwise be. There's solid stuff here, with some dark comedy involved around his efforts in contradistinction to Jill's plight, but it also feels less thought out than it should have been.
The real joys of the film, if you want to call them joys, are the deeply black humorous segments between Max and Jill. Max never quite crosses the line, but he's toeing it so aggressively and constantly that his interactions are so awkward and uncomfortable that it has a palpable effect on the audience. It escalates until Max has so completely destroyed the bathroom in the name of fixing it and sits upon the elevated throne of the toilet singing a song he composed to Jill really aggressively. It's hind of hilarious and just so awkward and intimidating at the same time.
There's a resolution that requires Jill herself to go over the line, and the film fully embraces its horror aspects without ever getting gory or explicit. If it had been more of a pure horror film without the pretensions towards symbolism, I think it might have worked better. As it stands, The Plumber is in between a horror film and something more intellectual. It's a ditty, something Weir pushed out in a matter of weeks for cash, and he could have done far worse.
At a university dorm for professors lives Dr. Brian Cowper (Robert Coleby) and his wife Jill (Judy Morris). Brian is a nutritionist with a potentially life-changing visit from WHO scientists to look at his research on New Guinean diet, and Jill is an anthropology masters student who has accompanied Brian on some of his journeys. Working alone in their dorm apartment one day, she greets the building's plumber, Max (Ivar Kants), who says he's there on a routine visit to just check the pipes. She lets him in, and he soon reveals that there's a problem with them. The pipes are too small, and he needs to replace them all.
This is the setup for Max to completely invade Jill's life in some kind of psycho-sexual terror campaign that drags on for days. The invasion of her home while she's trapped there with him puts her in the path of this guy with a mysterious, shifting past and propensity for, potentially, showering instead of investigating the pipes, creating this kind of potentially harmless but obviously implied threat that is meant to wear her down.
I think there's supposed to be this comparison or perhaps contrast between her investigative work of the New Guinean people and Max's visits, but it feels more like an idea thrown up without the real consideration that Weir was very capable of bringing to his films. There's something that could be an interesting supporting idea at play, but it feels so under-considered and under-utilized that it ultimately comes to nothing. Is Max's invasion of Jill's space the same as her sitting in her own tent in New Guinea and a local coming into the tent to yell at her for hours on end? Perhaps. What about her research in general? Is Weir comparing anthropological research to Max's invasion? I really don't know, but you can see the outline of what could have been an idea.
The other side of this is Brian's efforts to ingratiate himself to the WHO scientists looking at his research. He's distracted because his efforts aren't as intriguing to them as he had hoped, and he is more dismissive of Jill's concerns that he might otherwise be. There's solid stuff here, with some dark comedy involved around his efforts in contradistinction to Jill's plight, but it also feels less thought out than it should have been.
The real joys of the film, if you want to call them joys, are the deeply black humorous segments between Max and Jill. Max never quite crosses the line, but he's toeing it so aggressively and constantly that his interactions are so awkward and uncomfortable that it has a palpable effect on the audience. It escalates until Max has so completely destroyed the bathroom in the name of fixing it and sits upon the elevated throne of the toilet singing a song he composed to Jill really aggressively. It's hind of hilarious and just so awkward and intimidating at the same time.
There's a resolution that requires Jill herself to go over the line, and the film fully embraces its horror aspects without ever getting gory or explicit. If it had been more of a pure horror film without the pretensions towards symbolism, I think it might have worked better. As it stands, The Plumber is in between a horror film and something more intellectual. It's a ditty, something Weir pushed out in a matter of weeks for cash, and he could have done far worse.