Rubber

No reason.

Why do people hate this film? No reason.

Why do people love this film? No reason.

Why did they make this film? No reason.

Why did we all watch this film? No reason.

Why do we want to watch this film again? No reason.

Why haven't they make a sequel? No reason.

Why would we watch that sequel if it was made? No reason.

Why is the tyre called Robert? Watch until the very end of the film to find out...

"The film you are about to see is an homage to 'no reason', that most powerful element of style." This is the manifesto that opens Rubber, delivered directly to the audience in a breaking of the fourth wall that is somewhat like taking a pound of dynamite to a pane of glass.

Rubber is a "horror" film about a black rubber car tyre that kills people by making their heads explode. With telepathy. And when I say "horror" I do of course mean "side-splittingly funny, pitch black, absurdist comedy." The opening scenes of Rubber are a deliberate assault on the separation between the audience and the film. Normally the opening sequence of a film seeks to bring you into the world of the film; the audience is encouraged to step through the silver screen and forget about the real world for the duration of the story. Rubber perverts these expectations. The film comes crashing through the screen, into the world of the audience. It reminds us at every turn that we are watching a film, and indeed that the very act of our watching is what makes the film happen.

There are actually two plot lines at work in Rubber. The first concerns a murderous inanimate object , an innocent but spirited young woman on the run from some troubled element of her past, and the county sheriff on the trail of the vulcanised psychopath. This is ostensibly the core thread of the movie, but we soon see that this action only serves as a literal distraction for the audience, who exist in the film, embodied as actual participants, though ones who remain clearly and distinctly removed from the action, watching events at a distance through field glasses. This distraction covers the real story, that of the sheriff, who is in fact the antagonist of the story, attempting to kill off the audience (through the manoeuvrings of his toady, The Accountant) so that the film can end and he can go home.

The movie within the movie begins with a sequence that could have come straight from Leone's scrapbook. A man lies face down in a desert. Slowly, he rises, and shakes himself off. He staggers along, and falls. He rises again, and continues to stagger on, through the endless desert. Except that the "man" in question is a rubber tyre (Roger, according to the credits). This is the brilliance of Rubber; that it can appropriate the cinematic language that we are so familiar with, and apply it to situations that cannot be anything but utterly absurd.

Other scenes lift from a variety of sources, including a sequence that takes place in what is clearly the Bates hotel from the original Psycho. For a film that claims to be dedicated to meaninglessness, it is ironic that not a single frame is without a clear purpose. Every shot serves to either ensconce us in the impossible world of a rubber tyre who murders people, or tear us forcibly out of it, as we return repeatedly to the plight of the poor audience, stranded in the desert with no food, and prey to depredations of a murderous cast member, or possibly character. It's never clear whether the antagonist is an actor who wants to stop playing his role, or a character in a story who wants the story itself to end; the latter appeals, if only for its deeply apocalyptic subtext. When the film ends, where does the character go?).

Even the choice of the supposed villain must have taken a great deal of thought. It's such an elegant choice; an object capable of locomotion, but without moving parts to cutely animate. Something that has an element of menace (after all, a tyre, attached to a vehicle, can do a lot of damage), but is also innately ridiculous. An object that can fulfill the emotive needs of the film yet has remarkably little capacity to emote. Consider that all this thing can do is roll forward, roll backwards, fall over, stand up, and vibrate its sides. That's a sum total of five things you can ask your star to do for you on screen. As a film-making challenge alone, that's a spectacular feat to undertake.

I could go on for days about the tiniest of "seemingly irrelevant but incredibly well thought out" details that litter the film. That Rubber invites such complex readings is a testament to the subtlety that underlies the simple brilliance of the film itself. Whatever you may think about the subtext and meaning of this supposedly meaningless film, it doesn't really matter if Rubber "means" anything or not, because whatever else it may be, the film is absolutely hilarious. We are talking literal "tears of laughter" funny here.

Quentin Dupieux provides us with excellent cinematography, full of lingering establishing shots and vivid, often deliberately off-frame close-ups, and the cast all turn in magnificent performances, especially Jack Plotnick, who demonstrates the ability to carry a scene from laugh out loud funny to deeply uncomfortable in a matter of seconds. The script is tightly written, and the humour builds on itself in layers, rising from the initial "WTF?" moments of nervous laughter to the farcical crescendo of the closing scenes, where every element of the film collides in a scene that, if nothing else, will mean that I'll never look at tricycles the same way again.

I could continue to pick at Rubber, pulling out detail after detail, examining each one in turn to find new facets, new thoughts and revelations. None of that really matters though; what you need to know is that Rubber is the strangest, funniest, and most dazzlingly original film you will see this year, and considering that Scott Pilgrim vs The World just came out, that's one hell of an achievement.

Originally from http://www.rgbfilter.com/?p=9032

Just because a movie has a low budget and is unique doesn't make it a good movie. My favorite part about this movie is basically the intro since it sort of pumps you up, it seemed like a excuse later on for the movie for not making any sense. Not only does the movie not make any sense the characters are very awkward, but that is what somewhat makes this movie interesting since the characters aren't super serious. The plot is basically about a serial killer tire that goes around blowing stuff and people up using psychokinetic powers. the awkwardness of the situations is what make this movie remotely intriguing. Also trying to figure out exactly what is going on is what drives this movie as well. I don't know if some scenes were intended to be funny, but it was sort of humorous at times which is a plus. The flaw is that the movie just wasn't all that fun to watch and was repetitive with lot of the time taking up with a tire rolling around. Just because it has a unique idea that hasn't really been done before just doesn't make a movie good sometimes and that applies to this movie. I was expecting at least a crazy final scene but that didn't really happen either.

4.5/10

Sigh... I've been really looking forward for this one. And the premise makes 'Rubber' sound almost irresistible. But there are two ways of killing off a smart movie idea: 1.) Believe that the idea works so well with the audience that it won't notice inconsistencies and bad acting. 2.) Constantly remind the audience what a smart idea it is watching.

Unfortunately, 'Rubber' succeeds in both: the only saving grace in terms of acting is Wings Hauser, the other leads make you seriously ponder an early leave. And what's with the pompous speeches? To be sure, 'Rubber' is not about taking you out or into a moment. It's about constantly reminding you that this moment isn't really happening. For some, that might be a nice existentialist twist. For others, like me, such ambition is completely out of place in a film about a tire blowing people's heads up.

If you'd edit this down to five minutes, you'd get a seriously hilarious short, though.

As for more rewarding options in the 'weird French horror film with excellent cinematography' section, I suggest 'Amer' (2009). It's equally pointless but delightful eye-candy (in the literal sense of the word).

When Robert, a tire, discovers his destructive telepathic powers, he soon sets his sights on a desert town; in particular, a mysterious woman becomes his obsession.

The film opens with some surreal imagery, some utter nonsense, and then the lines that explain everything you will see for the next hour: the "no reason" speech. Why do things happen in movies? As they say, sometimes for no reason (Why is ET brown?) This film takes that principle to the next level.

With a tire being the main character, not many actors get enough screen time to really develop their roles. I would have liked to see more of Haley Ramm. I did not know her, despite her lengthy resume (she was young Jean Grey, for example)... I would like to see her in more things, get more starring roles. Perhaps in "Red State"?