A couple of guys show up at a guesthouse in the French countryside and inexplicable events begin to occur. The most troubling of these are the hangings in the garden - first a bird, then a chicken, then a piece of wood, then a cat. It all seems to point toward some meaning or intention that remains consistently out of reach in spite of an unending stream of word salad in which the characters invoke various philosophers and writers, make Donald Duck sounds, speak in pseudo-Latin gibberish, and utter puns that always manage to slightly edge around being funny. Slugs appear in the food. In one particularly memorable scene, the unhinged guesthouse patron spills a bowl of peas on the ground, and the characters crawl around and make a big mess while shrieking at one another. Everyone is sleeping with everyone. One character is writing a novel, but this proves another fruitless attempt to make sense of senselessness, as he should probably already know it will based on his repeated references to J.P. Sartre. Etcetera. There's no plot to speak of, so I'm trying to give a sense of the texture of the film.
It should be clear that this is a truly left-field piece of cinema whose main concern is the absurd. I feel that it's quite well made and that Zulawski is a talented director. But here my praise of the film must stop. It's useful to compare it to Possession, another Zulawski film that has proved his most enduring. Personally I found that film engaging and unique - certainly the outrageously grotesque visual imagery makes an immediate impression - but was annoyed by the constant stream of pseudo-intellectual dialogue. It didn't add anything to the film, except as a comment on the impossibility of making sense of any of the weirdness presented on screen. Perhaps on that level the constant rumination was effective, but I found it annoying and felt it was already clear that the images didn't make any sense, so the commentary was redundant. It would have been more effective to focus on the potent imagery, leading the viewer on an impossible search for meaning instead of having the characters verbalize the fruitlessness of that search for two hours.
Cosmos is more verbalization, more rumination, streams of it, mountains of it. The weird visual imagery in this film is more subdued. It's clear that the images of the hangings, the slugs in the food, are building on one other in some sort of weirdly nonsensical, jaggedly poetic way. But not enough is made of them. I personally found it frustrating to watch this particular film about absurdity and meaninglessness and found myself thinking about other films about absurdity and meaninglessness that somehow manage to be emotionally engaging instead of just absurd and meaningless. For instance, I would point toward the Spanish film Arrebato. It descends into similar wormholes of repetitive, addictive thinking and questioning of the unstable nature of reality while getting under the viewer's skin with disturbing images and a plot that builds toward the inevitable conclusion of existential obliteration. In this case, if the director has nothing to say but nothing, what is the justification for the film's existence? As I said, I don't doubt the skill with which this film was made. I simply question its necessity. And no one on earth is going to find it entertaining.
The end credits show the film set being taken apart. I don't think this is a spoiler: this is a film that works from the opening scene to disassemble itself. If that's what you want to see, go for it. I even had the thought, while I was watching this, that it is the sort of film that has multiple layers that will probably only be revealed on repeated viewings. But once was enough for me. If you want to see a film that does what this film does, only better, see Possession. For me, this is a film that will stick in your craw, nagging to be explained, and perhaps that's praiseworthy. I simply don't find it likable at all and therefore won't recommend it.
Death. Sex. Stains on the wall that might mean something. J.P. Sartre. I'm writing a novel. Icicle, bicycle. Peas on the ground. Tririri. If you want more, go ahead and see this.
It should be clear that this is a truly left-field piece of cinema whose main concern is the absurd. I feel that it's quite well made and that Zulawski is a talented director. But here my praise of the film must stop. It's useful to compare it to Possession, another Zulawski film that has proved his most enduring. Personally I found that film engaging and unique - certainly the outrageously grotesque visual imagery makes an immediate impression - but was annoyed by the constant stream of pseudo-intellectual dialogue. It didn't add anything to the film, except as a comment on the impossibility of making sense of any of the weirdness presented on screen. Perhaps on that level the constant rumination was effective, but I found it annoying and felt it was already clear that the images didn't make any sense, so the commentary was redundant. It would have been more effective to focus on the potent imagery, leading the viewer on an impossible search for meaning instead of having the characters verbalize the fruitlessness of that search for two hours.
Cosmos is more verbalization, more rumination, streams of it, mountains of it. The weird visual imagery in this film is more subdued. It's clear that the images of the hangings, the slugs in the food, are building on one other in some sort of weirdly nonsensical, jaggedly poetic way. But not enough is made of them. I personally found it frustrating to watch this particular film about absurdity and meaninglessness and found myself thinking about other films about absurdity and meaninglessness that somehow manage to be emotionally engaging instead of just absurd and meaningless. For instance, I would point toward the Spanish film Arrebato. It descends into similar wormholes of repetitive, addictive thinking and questioning of the unstable nature of reality while getting under the viewer's skin with disturbing images and a plot that builds toward the inevitable conclusion of existential obliteration. In this case, if the director has nothing to say but nothing, what is the justification for the film's existence? As I said, I don't doubt the skill with which this film was made. I simply question its necessity. And no one on earth is going to find it entertaining.
The end credits show the film set being taken apart. I don't think this is a spoiler: this is a film that works from the opening scene to disassemble itself. If that's what you want to see, go for it. I even had the thought, while I was watching this, that it is the sort of film that has multiple layers that will probably only be revealed on repeated viewings. But once was enough for me. If you want to see a film that does what this film does, only better, see Possession. For me, this is a film that will stick in your craw, nagging to be explained, and perhaps that's praiseworthy. I simply don't find it likable at all and therefore won't recommend it.
Death. Sex. Stains on the wall that might mean something. J.P. Sartre. I'm writing a novel. Icicle, bicycle. Peas on the ground. Tririri. If you want more, go ahead and see this.
