Singapore Sling

This is one of the most unique films I've ever seen, and I'll probably remember scenes from it till the day I die. Beautiful photography? Check. Non-linear plot line and weird storytelling techniques (talking to the audience, language mixing)? Check. Haunting soundtrack? Check. Black humor? Definite check. Some of the most bizarre erotic scenes ever filmed outside of porn? Oh yeah. A mix of utter revulsion and sensuous, wayward eroticism. Certain morsels of cinema that's classified as seriously weird by most run the risk of being weird for weirdness' sake; I'm happy to say that this is not one of them. Everything adheres to the film's internal logic, which would be my biggest criticism of movies that are considered 'out there'. Goes without saying this is not for the faint-hearted. A serious, deranged noir poem, one I will relish springing upon friends without any forewarning.

Greek movies generally suck, so it wouldn't be such a tremendous comment to say that this one is my best greek film (as I am greek). I have seen another film by Nikolaidis, also nice, but in no way as strong and pervert as this one. Singapore Sling is in its bigger part in English, having only some narrative in greek.

The director commented for this one that he was thinking something like a comedy in the vein of greek ancient tragedy while shooting, and for that matter, even if must have a pervert sense of humour (like me) to find this mess somewhat funny, the narrative and direction style is really over-the-top, succeeding, if not to approach ancient greek tragedy, in making a unique film.

This is definately only for the few people that can associate with extreme cinema and surely these people will find much in this one-of-a-kind film. I am also sure they will catch the humourous side of this dark, twisted tale. A must-find, if you can and if you dare!

The reflexive urge to label any film that flaunts its own sense of willful ambiguity as "in the vein of Lynch" is an overused cliché in the realm of armchair film criticism. And it's all too easy to overstate the paranoid influence of Polanski on films that take a maddeningly subjective approach to their characters. And it's easier yet to label a movie released in 1990, yet utilizing gorgeous black-and-white cinematography, as a satirical-noir counterpart to Billy Wilder's "Sunset Boulevard" and the black-humored psychological horror of "What Ever Happened to Baby Jane?" But "Singapore Sling," true to its alcohol-blended title, cribs all of these seemingly disparate influences into a bizarre original that, while not yielding the most emotionally resonant result, offers a hypnotic descent into a gradually escalating nightmare. Greek writer-director Nikos Nikolaidis offers a simple setup, revealed through the title character's voice-over narration: for three years, he has been searching for a woman named Laura, and an injury (for which no explanation is given) finds him on the doorstep of a deranged "Mother" (Michele Valley) and "Daughter" (Meredyth Herold), who proceed to torture and degrade our protagonist in all manner of revolting ways. "Singapore Sling" is well aware of its capacity to disgust and provoke, but what keeps the proceedings fascinating (and watchable) are performances (particularly Valley's and Herold's) that take on an inspired madness that convinces the viewer that their actions are consistent with their unglued personalities (and not mere showy torture fodder in the "Hostel" mold). Complementing Nikolaidis's madhouse aesthetic is the black-and-white cinematography, where one beautifully-conceived shot follows the next, and gives the proceedings a paradoxically classy look, despite the sharp contrast with the subject matter. While not without pretension, "Singapore Sling" straddles the line between "arthouse" and "grindhouse" with gleefully mad abandon, its unapologetic weirdness a breath of fresh air.

What do you get when you cross Preminger's LAURA with the Kuchar/McDowell brain-frier THUNDERCRACK!? Something that looks a lot like SINGAPORE SLING, one of the more demented European films of, well, ever. The story of a gut-shot Greek detective in search of a mysterious "Laura" who stumbles upon the house where she's living with her "mother" (who's probably neither that or female, for that matter) gets stranger by the turn, and does not shy away from bizarre sex, ultra-violence, and regurgitative gross-outs in the process. Filmed in beautiful black-and-white, it's a one-of-a-kind film, more purely noir than most noir retreads of recent years, yet far too demented to be considered merely noir. Viewers with strong stomachs seeking the ultra-outre will find this to their delight; all others had best shy away.

So while we don't get certain things explicitly shown (some may feel they saw certain things, like with Reservoir Dogs and the ear scene), the movie is quite mental. And it is tough rating it ... it is black and white, it has violence, a lot of (forced) sexual situations, a lot of depravity in general ... and a lot of despicable and very crazy people in it. An insane Asylum should be the place for them to be - although I would fear for the sanity of the other patients ... jokes aside, this really goes far out.

And it is consistent about it. So the movie sticks to its guns (or whatever you want to call it) - you almost don't feel the nearly 2 hours running time of disgusting episodic tortures/fun times happening. It's all in the eyes of the beholder/viewer. Can you dig this? Can you "enjoy" the madness? I can't answer the question for you ... you have to decide for yourself. "Good times"? Bad times? It feels like an insane play - and playing they do! Acting as some would call it - and no matter if you approve or not, the job they're doing is phenomenal