A Música Mais Triste do Mundo

What could only be titled as Cinema of the Ridiculous, Maddin's latest masterpiece, about a no-legged beer queen who hosts a Winnipeg-set competition to see which nation has the saddest music in the world, is filled to the gills with wacky ideas, but the reason it's a great film is because of the heartfelt feeling behind it. Maddin's genuine love for the silent cinema that he emulates (and attachment to the pathetic characters he creates) makes it possible for him to sustain a comic tone without it ever becoming mocking.

Maddin manages to balance the grotesque comic caricature of Mark McKinney as the shady mustached businessman who tries to win the competition, and Maria de Medeiros, who gets life advice from her tapeworm, with the pathetic goth character that's McKinney's brother, who's had to deal with the loss of a son, and the glamorous Isabella Rossellini, who's had to deal with the loss of her legs. (I wonder if the fact that Rossellini lost her legs in a car accident caused by her performing fellatio is a nod to the Myth of Murnau.) There's almost a subliminal melodrama taking place with the theme of loss and hilarious depression (during The Depression). It's an exciting movie visually, but unlike the best of the silents that Maddin loves, it's not poetic in that slow, beautiful way -- it's too fast-paced, kinetic, and rough to achieve any sort of traditional beauty -- but it is a feast. The few scenes of gaudy color -- reds, blues, and odd flesh tones -- are as grainy as the black and white. Maddin is truly one of the most imaginative of directors and he has a firm grasp of the medium. In fact, there is at least one scene of slow, beautiful poetry -- a purely silent moment, near the end, that comes alongside the bloody murder of Rossellini's screams. 10/10

I saw Guy Maddin's film last weekend, not really knowing much about it other than it's premise, which was too absurd to pass up. A double amputee parapalegic beer baroness with glass legs filled with her own beer holding a contest during Prohibition to find the saddest music in the world? Where do people come up with this stuff?

The film is an interesting conglomeration of styles from films before and around the era in which it is set. The 8 mm footage with the stereopticon lens is reminiscent of the earliest films, and the distorted sets created in a studio are reminiscent of the German expressionist films. This is combined with a 30's musical and conversational style, including bits of "Technicolor" thrown in for good measure. I would have to see the film again, but I would like to go back and see it again to determine the link between the scenes which are suddenly shot in color as compared to the grainy black and white images that grace the rest of the film.

Despite the quizzical looks from the three fellow moviegoers who occupied the theatre, I found myself laughing out loud quite a few times at the film's caustic humor. The matches between the music from each country are like something out of a gangland film, with each side advancing toward each other menacingly during their performance. Some of the countries who perform in the competition reflect Maddin's satirical side, including a winning performance from Serbia (of all places) and an entry from the "country" of Africa (as if we in North America don't know any of the individual nations on the continent).

The entwining of satire and comedy continues in the musical performances and the competition's radio commentators. Maybe it's just me, but the funeral dirges from some countries (most notably "Africa" and Scotland) are not really "sad" at all, as they are a bit loud and a bit too upbeat. The greatest offender is the American entry, who turns the competition into a showcase for his Broadway ambitions, eschewing the premise of the competition with the blessing of Lady Port-Huntley, who incidentally is his former-current lover. The idiotic commentators obnoxiously chatter over a loudspeaker even as the musicians are performing, delivering such priceless wisdom as "Siam is known for its dignity, twins, and cats."

The themes of the film revolve around the separation between the rich and the poor (one character enjoys a psychic connection with her tapeworm), American excess, Canadian self-loathing, humanity's relentless desire for the trivial and superficial over the meaningful and spiritual, the global domination of American pop culture, how the mass media controls the world, etc. However, none of these are really fleshed out in the film, but rather touched on briefly then tossed away in favor of the next idea.

Though the film is more style over substance, it is still thoroughly enjoyable for anyone who loves the cinema in all its forms.

This is a review of the DVD.

First off, Guy Maddin's films are an acquired taste. Second, it helps to be a film fan and to have a knowledge and love of early cinema to truly appreciate them. Third, you must be willing to give yourself over totally to his particular vision. Don't even try to fight it. Do all this and get ready to enjoy.

"The Saddest Music in the World " is a wonderful amalgam of comedy, drama,

tragedy and farce. It's got a cast of characters that are familiar and yet strange at the same time. Just when you think it's heading in one direction, it yanks you in another. It has an internal logic just like a dream.

The photography, art direction and sound design add to the uniqueness of the

experience. The film feels like an artifact, a lost film that was hidden away by a studio in the '30s because it was too wild and broke too many rules. In fact, it's film-making that defies the system.

The DVD contains a making of featurette that is enjoyable to watch. There are also 3 short films. Only Maddin could make a film with the title "Sissy Boy Slap Party" and make it funny.

Please take a chance and rent/buy this film. It's not the typical Hollywood

product (although it mines Hollywood's past) and for that we should be glad.

I also have to recommend another film by Guy Maddin- "Dracula: Pages from a

Virgin's Diary", a silent film ballet. I got it sight unseen and love it. The director's commentary was worth the price alone.

I'm a Guy Maddin fan. I have developed an addiction for his work. Thank God!

The credits rolled last night at 11:50 PM at the Sunshine on Houston Street in NYC.

Outside the theatre, I glanced up at the box office board: There was another viewing at 11:55 p.m. I impulsively bought another ticket and saw it again.

This is one of the funniest, most original and absurd movies I have ever seen. I feel like I can't believe I've actually seen it -- waking up dizzy at 2 PM today on a Saturday and pondering this movie.

All I remember is the wonderful music, the great one-liners, and those fanciful legs. Oh, for legs such as those!

Everyone must be forced to sit through this film as punishment for watching any television, ever.

Isabella Rossilini should be so proud of forging through the offers of banal roles and accepting roles such as this. It is not a surprise that the same actresss who allowed David Lynch to strip and bruise her in Blue Velvet would embrace such a role as Port-Huntley. If you're sad, and like beer, she's your woman!

The audience last night was howling with laughter and delight at the absurd and brilliant lines in this movie. There was so much to like about this spectacular musical.

But most of all, there were those intoxicating legs.

I spent the whole time asking myself whether I was enjoying this. I tried, but I'm still not sure. I did appreciate the film making. The director clearly asked 'what can we do with the camera?' and the answer was 'anything'. There were many beautiful shots that had me hitting the pause button. A lot of it had an experimental feel - but that wasn't the problem. The story, based on an original screenplay by Kazuo Ishiguro (perhaps they should have stuck to the original), felt like it was concocted by different people trying to outdo each other with silly ideas (tapeworms, beer-filled glass legs, sleeping in the snow, a character based on Gavrilo Princip - you quickly stopped asking why) - but that wasn't the problem either.

The film might have been a collaboration between David Lynch, Orson Welles, Eisenstein, and the Brothers Quay - each of them disagreeing what the film should be about. It was worth trying. I quickly got used to the extremely smudgy effect - as if the lens had been smothered in vaseline - and I appreciated Isabella Rosselini (looking and sounding like her mother) and the big-eyed Maria de Madeiros.

The backdrop was a music contest between international contestants to find the world's saddest music. The face-off heats was pure Python but it was all kept strangely distant. There were several problems: the emotional drama between the father and the two sons was dreary, as such issues always are. Secondly, it wasn't funny, and that was because it was all art and no emotional intelligence. Thirdly, it said nothing. It was full of ideas, but they were all microscopic, worked out at scene level - or even frame level. The whole thing put together didn't add up to anything. In the end, the images were everything, and that is always going to be disappointing.