The Midnight Parasites

(Yoji Kuri/1972/Japan)

Imagine The Fantastic Planet had fallen through the arse end of an event horizon into Hieronymus Bosch’s Garden of Earthly Delights and you’ll be near enough to the 9 minutes of depraved surrealism that is Yoji Kuri’s The Midnight Parasites. With an overriding theme of consumption and excretion as a metaphor for the cycle of life and at times an obvious critique of the capitalist system of consumption and production (witness the Centipede like image of figures crouching in a circle, shitting money to be eaten by the person behind), it is a bizarre but pointed assault on the sensibilities of the viewer. 

The animation is close to kids’ programmes of the time, with softness, lots of curved edges and genuinely very like The Fantastic Planet in places. This deliberate style only adds to the feeling of dislocation it induces. It is sound tracked by a playful and goofily sinister score of undulating drones and picked guitar notes. A real treat: The Midnight Parasites

(4/5)

Drowning by Numbers

(Peter Greenaway/1988/UK and Netherlands)

Presenting a story roughly hewn from the template of a fable or fairytale whereby the same thing happens three times with differing effect or meaning, Drowning by Numbers is part fantasy, part surreal structuralism and 100% Peter Greenaway. Three generations of women with the same name bump off their husbands/partners and inveigle the help of the local coroner in hiding the murders with promises of sexual favours in return. The promises aren’t kept and the inevitability of the closing scene becomes increasingly apparent.

But there is so much more going on above and below the surface in this film. A visual and vocal count from one to a hundred occurs throughout, referenced early on by a girl skipping in the street as she names off stars in the night sky, stating a hundred is enough. Every scene is laden with the bizarre and surreal, whether it is fruit, abundant and rotting or bugs and slugs permeating the decor. There is movement and noise everywhere as the story rumbles on in the foreground. It is a cinematic exuberance, a celebration of sorts, championing storytelling, myth and imagination. But there are deeper intimations also, the male characters are a weak and flawed, none of them can swim, water is a huge presence, a visual motif for the adeptness of women for living in the natural world. The men are ogres of sorts, base, lecherous and disposable.

This is a layered film, dense with meaning, red herrings, cues, clues and intellectual trickeries and absolutely prone to numerous viewings, once will not do it justice. Michael Nyman’s score is an absolute treat too.

(3.5/5) 

Spaceship

(Alex Taylor/2016/UK)

Space cadet more like, if Taylor has succeeded in anything here it is in capturing adolescent angst wank in cinematic form. Spaceship will tractor beam you along for a while but quickly becomes unbearable.

(1/5)