Dulce película

...and if that statement makes sense, you should see this movie! This is a very funny movie for its first half, because one-of-a-kind director Dusan Makavejev populates his mess of randomness with the same docu-in-your-face absurdity and crude outrageous view of sex that his best film, WR, had. We meet Mr. Kapital (John Vernon, of all people, though it is not his own genitals used when the character is seen on camera with them dipped in gold) who brushes a napkin across his daughter (if it is his daughter, maybe his girlfriend, played by Carole Laure) on one side of the super loose narrative-side, and on the other Potemkin Sailor (ho-ho), who takes on board a stray, even though to have sex with her will lead to certain death.

Then there's also Jeremiah Muscle, who flaunts his black snake like it's nobody's business but the lady's, and a Hispanic singing sensation (on record only, of course, as he makes a music video with the backdrop of the Eifel tower, leading to getting stuck with another women in the act), all mixed up in a crazy lot of scenes that emphasize phallus imagery, the female form, and bright, primary colors- as Makavejev put it "a love letter to Kodak".

This isn't to say the film doesn't take more than a little- actually quite a lot of- work on the viewer to know what the hell is going on. Like WR, the director throws in a few times throughout some real found-documentary footage, only this time without much relevance to the film that the director has made around it (albeit the song used in the clips is excellent). And yet for the first half of Sweet Movie this isn't of a terrible concern, at least for one knowing that the unexpected and anarchic is all in tasteless fun. It's is a little like if there was a rogue Marxist (i.e. the awesome pipe Kapital has, and the ship's main mast) who got kicked out of Monty Python and was obsessed with genitals and went off and made an independent film.

That is, for the first half, anyway. After this, when Miss Canada/1984/whomever runs into the commune group- this is where, all of a sudden, the randomness of tasteless acts starts to try one's patience. I can even see what Makavejev was going for here without trying to add to much meaning to what it all is: the disgusting depravity with food, vomiting, infantilism, nudity, barbarism of communism as satire. But it just goes on for much too long; where the first half had little stabs of wild wit, this, along with the long sequence with Anna Planeta around the young boys, soon fall flat not because of there not being any cohesive narrative structure, but because they just aren't as captivating, or hilarious, as what came before.

It might be a tough act to follow such a crafty and controversial hybrid like WR Mysteries of the Organism, but Makavejev's method of throwing caution completely into the wind soon starts to reel into the tedious, with the exception of the sugar sex scene and Laure's naked chocolate session, which are some of the best scenes in the film. This being noted, the shards that do work in Sweet Movie make it a somewhat worthwhile viewing; certainly for those who are die-hard avant-garde cineasts Sweet Movie marks as something like an X-rated milkshake- lots and lots of nudity and pushing-the-line sexual acts done to a style that can only come out of a man with a real vision at work.

What it is precisely I can't quite say. It is, at the least, an 'experience' of its time and mood. That it's not the sort of work one would want to watch it again from start to finish for quite a long time (unlike WR) is its biggest sort of drawback.

There are some films that are designed to shock, some designed to titillate, some that delight in disgusting the view. For Makavejev, shock, disgust and titillation are never the purpose, but a means to a form of psycho-liberation. Makavejev in Sweet Movie hurtles us head first into the confronting theses of Post-Freudian Wilhelm Reich. We are forced to confront our relationship to our primal beings. He literally smears our consciousness with faeces, vomit and carnality.

We cannot watch orgiastic scenes of regressive acts, a sensual striptease played out inches from the faces of young boys, Carol Laure masturbating in a pool of molten chocolate without a visceral reaction. We are forced to confront our own repressed desires and shine a light in the dark recesses of our own psyche.

Here is revolution at it's most personal, montaged together with lashings of wild humour. Allow your head to give up control and come along for the ride. Recommended to anyone who is willing to put their concept of themselves on the line a risk a flirtation with prurient madness.

8/10

It's one of those movies, where you really question yourself how far can they push the whole thing (like the Rape in Irreversible, the "impalling" in Cannibal Holocaust and pretty much all of Saló, 120 Days Of Sodom), and why (or should it) can't that be covered with a little subtleness.

But then again, it's not a trendy shock-flick , like the Larry Clarks and the Gaspar Noés of our times. Things have their place and reason. It may get uncomfortable a couple of times, but it's always good to know that images can still affect us, other than just inducing into eating, shopping or masturbating.

Though the greatest part of this film is just how naturally strange it really is, and the great sense of humor that comes along with the whole thing. It's an extreme comedy, but they don't waste the poo jokes like the silly American Pies, they actually defecate. And, anyway, the narrative doesn't lose it's focus. The thing begins and ends as it's due.

In these times of controversial conservatives, where the J-Los gross billions on their buttocks but find it humiliating to bare a nipple on film, it's good to see that there were once different people doing different things, not really caring if their nipples were to show, if they had to drink a little urine or vomit on screen.

Wow, this movie may not be the greatest surreal movie put to film but the director, Dusan Makavejev, sure didn't pull any punches. As I talk about the story, keep in mind that I'm not making this up. An oil millionaire is holding a beauty contest to find himself a virgin bride. It can't be just any virgin bride. She has to be willing to be urinated on by the millionaires golden penis which he proudly shows off in the film many times. No, folks, it's not a statue or anything, he just happens to have a gold penis. He finds the seemingly perfect bride but she doesn't take well to this lifestyle after awhile and runs away. She ends up in a large suitcase which ends up being shipped to France. Once there she still finds a life of weirdness and nothing but strange people. She eventually comes across a commune where a large number of people urinate all over each other and eat their own feces and rub it all over each others bodies. The story, if you can call it that, also involves a sailer and a girl named Capt. Ann who can't get enough sex. Eventually there is a love scene which takes place in a large tub of sugar which turns to a sticky red batter after being bloodied up by Ann stabbing her partner. Keep in mind this is all surrealism and perhaps a little of the directors sick self-indulgence. I only understood a little of what I saw after seeing one of the special features on the DVD. You really need to know a little about foreign politics of the 60's to understand the film which I don't. I get the feeling however that even with that education you will be scratching your head for a lot of the movie. Surprisingly, there is actually a decent soundtrack to the film as one of the songs heard was actually a hit in Europe and is quite nice. Keep in mind, this is not a sex film but uses it to attack us in an unsettling way. I promise you won't be turned on by any of those scenes. Although I can't say I really liked this film since I didn't find the entire thing interesting, I can say that it's a hard movie to be passive about because of the symbolism I actually did understand. Watch at your own risk!

They don't make movies like this anymore. Even Dusan Makavejev himself shied from experimenting further along the route of sexual anarchy, ending up as a pale shadow of his former, rousing self. It brings to memory the golden days of the early 70's, when radical sex and politics thrived in the cinemas along with traditional Hollywood-fare, and movies were still considered dangerous and subversive. The movie itself is funny, tasteless, allegorical and even has glorious in-jokes. Like the river-boat "Potemkin" sailing down the Seine with the enormous head of Lenin in the prow. The gold-painted, urinating penis was, by the way, not cut from the picture when I saw it at the age of 15. I never recovered from the shock.