The PianoTuner of EarthQuakes

The credits rolled and I sat staring, the afterimage of a burning white face and bench buried in the snow still resonating in my eyes. I was sure if I was blown away, confused, enraged or all three. The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes is riddled with problems: the unnecessarily overbearing voice-over exposition during the first forty minutes, the thin plot lines in the opening five minutes. The Quay Brothers seem to not be entirely sure what this film is about, I don't get the sense that there was a mastermind behind this warped world, like I do while watching Mulholland Drive.

That said, it is a very interesting film and, if for no other reason, this is a film that should be seen for being one of the most beautifully shot films of the last five years. The dried color palette, the hazy, dream-like quality of the main character's POV and the stop motion animation all combine to create a film rich in texture and beauty. It seems that The Brothers Quay, though maybe not the most talented of writers (this, I believe being only their second feature length as compared to stacks of rich short films), they are certainly masters of the medium visually. It's an intense, droning, paced film. It's slow and garbled. But it's beautiful.

There are some writers (Kafka, Haruki Murakami), some musicians (Monk, Trane, Beethoven), some artists (Max Ernst) and some directors (The Brothers Quay and possibly David Lynch) whose work never disappoints me.

I don't care if a movie makes sense or not. In fact, I prefer dream logic to real logic (forget about Hollywood logic!). The Piano Tuner draws you into a world you cannot forget. The alternately subtle and dramatic lighting choices the directors/cinematographers made were compelling.

The fact that the protagonist looks a bit like Kafka and has a similar predeliction for dreams and a similar love life happened to resonate for me.

True surrealism did not die out in the Thirties, but what passes for surrealism these days is generally anything that is "weird" or "fantastical." The Brothers Quay have put together a movie that the classic surrealists (and today's surrealists!) would have loved is an accomplishment of which the Brothers Quay should be proud.

Any movie that changes the way I look at the world when I walk out of theater rates ten quivering mechanical thumbs up for me.

That the final result of the Piano Tuner of Earthquakes is not really a great movie is a given when taking into account that the style of which the Quay Brothers have gone to almost perfectionist lengths to attain is always leaping ahead in strength when compared to the dialog or the performances. The story itself is meant as a pin-point line for the Quays to relay their staggering mix of mediums. After an opera singer, Malvina, dies during a performance (though not really 'dead' but captured by Doctor Droz, the not-quite-Phantom of the Opera of the story), a mild-mannered piano tuner who is sent out to Droz's estate, but not to fix pianos. Rather, he's sent to fix an automaton, and soon discovers what is going to really happen- the staging of a crazy, other-wordily 'opera' with Malvina, and decides he has to save her. The Quays' choices in actors- Cesar Saracho as Felisberto; Gottfried John as Doctor Droz; Amira Casar as the helpless lady of the film, Malvina; and Assumpta Sera as Droz's caretaker/sometimes seducer of Felisberto- are more based on their appearances and movements in scenes than really for ability in speech and emotion. Not that they don't have a moment or two when they get to connect with the poetic dialog (John gets a good deal of this at times, like when he is shown plotting away with his own agenda at hand). But it's really seeing them, with their distinctive looks, Saracho with his bony figure cast alongside the beautiful Casar, in relation to what comes forward on screen.

To say it's a feast for the eyes is an understatement, and to try and describe much of what comes out in the Quay's design could make this too revealing and long a review. Yet it's the abandon of the usual logic and going head-on into this world that earns their comparison to the likes of Cocteau: we're given a look, quite often, at the automaton and its movements, the gears and wheels churning in titled compositions, and cut against the other seamlessly stop-motion movements. But more importantly, this is set against the actors, and then with other visuals such as inexplicable stop-motion creatures like a woodcutter, or figures in the opera scenes, and if one were to watch it with the sound turned off at home it wouldn't make much of a difference with the visceral impact of it all. Their design attempts to keep the audience in this world from the moment we see Dr. Droz's castle, which is a computer-generated creation, but a much more intricate and detailed kind of set-piece, cut and chiseled in rock and steel. With many of these scenes, set against the music of Duncan and Slaski, which is as a given atmospheric and creepy, and a very unsentimental and moving ending, The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes knocks it out of the parts on technical terms, and should not disappoint the die-hard fans of the Quay brothers' previous works. It's also of no surprise now seeing it why it's the only film that Gilliam has ever had a producer credit on that has not been one of his own directorial efforts- for the kind of mind that loves what can come about through in holding on to an idea and seeing it through in a fantastic manner, it's a marvel. Just don't try and make sense of it all though. 7.5/10

PTOE is a sumptuous, seven course feast for the senses.

Nic Knowland's HD cinematography is wonderfully rich and textural. The sound design is eerie and extremely effective.

The art direction is equally fantastic.

Amira Cesar is endowed with an ethereal, otherworldly beauty and is perfectly cast in the film. As is Gottfried John who delights as the diabolical Dr. Droz.

The Quays have succeeded yet again in creating a strangely compelling parallel universe, falling somewhere between German Expressionism and Kafkaesque Surrealism.

The twins have generally been tagged as image-makers rather than story-tellers. That is not necessarily true, as each picture says a thousand words.

If you approach PTOE on a purely sensory level - you will be in for a spellbinding ride in which time will cease to exist. If you approach it as a conventional narrative, you will instead find yourself looking constantly at your watch.

Alice or the white rabbit - it's really your choice.

Every single appearance in this magical world pretends to have a meaning. Maybe it has, maybe not, that makes no difference. It's just a dependency, an intimate relation which chains you at the screen, forgiving you, still busy in wondering who and why... it embraces you in a cozy fake world, more real than any realistic projection. The discounted love story plot is just a background for the astonishing images and sounds, artificial and natural visions, insane but familiar feelings which make this hours pregnant. Erotism is driving the puppets (aka all of them, the characters) straight into their toy alcove, still standing on the edge of perversion and passion. You'll love these dropped confetti, if you're in a receptive state of mind.