Démence

Jan Svankmajer is a filmmaker who started out in animation, and made dozens of short films, most of them in surrealist settings and modes, and it was only when he got into feature films that he used live-action a lot more. This might explain why when he directs live-action you may not see certain usual things in movies, like with characters talking to the camera when in conversation (not sure if this breaks the 180-degree rule or not), or in a couple of awkward edits or his penchant for close-ups on mouths speaking words. And yet with each passing film I've come across from him- Alice, Faust, Little Otik- he gets a little better each time around. Now with Lunacy, his latest feature, it's by far his most assured and confidently insane direction (and rightfully so for this!) and featuring only minimal stop-motion animation. Thankfull, this animation is with pieces of meat put to piano honky tonk music.

But aside from the direction being stronger, and Svankmajer's actors being better than usual, it's such a thematically rich film that only a surrealist could pull off: one might say 'what does this mean or what's the symbol of the body doing that or that piece of food or the tar and feather or 13 punishments?' Secretly, Svankmajer's response, probably akin to Bunuel, would be 'does it ultimately matter?' In the scope of Lunacy, a film based on works by Poe and Marquis de Sade (what parts are which will only be known to those who've read the specific Poe stories, or are familiar enough with Sade, though I can likely guess the latter's influence in the last fifteen minutes), it's about the simple question: who's sane or not, and what defines sanity? Our protagonist, whom we think is the sanest of all, has recurring nightmares of men coming into his room at night with a straight-jacket ready to take him away and then his super-violent reaction. Is he, perhaps, any less wacko than the Marquis, or his fellow Doctor with the fake beards?

Well... maybe, comparatively, he is saner, but the question still stands amid a matter of degree; towards the end we're faced with the question of sanity in the face of "corporal punishment." Maybe the point is akin to the old George Carlin line about life being a freak-show and being born is just getting a ticket for the ride. Jean (Pavel Liska) is on his way back from his mother's funeral and is "befriended" (very loose quotes) by a Marquis (perfectly cast Jan Triska, definitely one of the creepiest of all screen villains) who by horse and buggy in present day takes him to his castle where Jean witnesses "blasphemous" acts at night with the Marquis and a bunch of naked ladies in a barn with an over-nailed cross. One thing leads to another- including a presumed suffocation by banana- and the Marquis oddly convinces Jean to come to the sanitarium to get some voluntary 'assistance'. Once there, it's a total upside-down cake where the lunatics have taken over, so to speak and literally, as the Marquis and Dr. Murloppe run rough-shod as the real doctors are locked in the basement, tarred and feathered with a bunch of chickens.

So much of this is rich and densely packed material that it kind of goes by simply. Ironic then (or maybe as a good old told-with-a-straight-faced joke) that Svankmajer makes an intro before the film about how "this is not art, art is probably dead anyway" when his film is just that: whacked out film-art to the tune of classic horror, as the genre goes, and as classic satire. This is full-bodied satire throughout, even when the style might suggest otherwise; just watch that super-crazy (however somewhat lucid) scene where the Marquis and doctor stage a reading and a kind of still-life of sorts in recreating a painting with the loonies- how the camera slides along those clapping hands and the Marquis reciting the words so eloquently. It's like a momentary glimpse at the blinding power of empowerment, of everyone in the room including Jean with getting poor Charlotte off the stage. While there are tendencies for it to get nasty (just in those 13 Sadistic punishments, no pun intended), the focus is always clear and powerful... and ultimately very funny.

Did I mention the meat seq-ways? This is just by itself extraordinary work and adds to the confounded but amazing artistry in the project. So much work was put in to tell these little stories of pieces of meat forming together, tongues and eyeballs, meat being tarred and feathered and humping, meat getting pecked at by chickens, etc. The combination of this and the fantastic live-action propel it up to being Svankmajer's best I've seen yet, and by the end we're left with whatever interpretation we want: does the meat represent the people going whatever way they will to form new shapes, or is commentary on what's going on in the story, or is it just eye-popping animation for the hell of the entire theme of lunacy all over the place? Why show any of this dark and despairing philosophical and psychological and physical things? Svankmajer's answer, undoubtedly, would be "why not?" A+

This film is about the sadistic adventures of Marquis de Sade, and also the lunacy of two extreme ways of running a psychiatric asylum.

I have seen Jan Svankmajer's films before, so I knew that this film would be bizarre and disturbing. Still, this film gravely shocked me. From the moving tongues to enucleation, this film was full of revolting and gory scenes. I almost felt sick during the film. I was also surprised to see a blasphemous scene involving a statue of crucifixion, which was shocking especially considering that the Czech Republic is a religious country.

Fortunately, the story was gripping and engaging. It really kept me longing for more to unfold. Marquis' monologue questioning the existence of God was well composed, and gave new arguments (for me anyway) to the never ending debate of His existence. This film is not for the uptight or the light hearted.

Functioning mainly as a mixture of three demented masters of art (these "heroes" of mine being Edgar Allan Poe, the Marquis de Sade, and Jan Svankmajer), "Lunacy" portrays a world of hopeless depravity. Demented desires are shown to be hidden within those one both extremes of the social spectrum. "Lunacy" is a film that lives up to its title, showcasing a world of idiocy, chaos, and oppression.

In his brilliant introduction, Svankmajer claims that this is a film inspired by the works of both Edgar Allan Poe and the Marquis de Sade. Being a fan of both authors, this only further fueled my fascination with the film. Poe's tortured soul often dominates the more melancholic and moody sections of such a masterwork, as well as largely inspiring the overall story. de Sade's sick spirit shines even brighter as Svankmajer displays the perverted sexual acts and desires performed by a common libertine. His surreal lens not flinching one bit, blasphemous rituals of twisted eroticism are performed in a way both chilling and occasionally amusing. Further mirroring de Sade's unconventional brilliance are the nihilistic philosophical musings of the film's own marquis, a man who refuses to hide his perverted desires, hatred for Mother Nature, and disdain for religion.

While juggling the atmospheres of ever impending doom and inescapable tragedy, "Lunacy" also manages to be one of the funniest movies of the century so far. Without fail, Svankmajer slyly mocks society using both grotesque horror and riotous black humor. Gags fill up Svankmajer's cinematic canvas like his character of the marquis' sperm does the inside of his sexual victims. Here, hilarity comes in many (often absolutely absurdist) forms, from slapstick to social commentary. Densely layered, Svankmajer's film crowds itself with much comic insanity by the second half. Many sequences work as both scenes of sadistic horror and gross out humor, so never be afraid to burst with laughter despite the urge to spray puke all over the movie screen like a hose.

A lot of viewers seem to praise Svankmajer for the lunacy of his visual imagination, for the grotesque insides he's willing to lay out. I admit there is stuff worth taking from him, notions I would be interested to engage. But a lot of what he does is so blunt that I mostly want to take a step back, he can be embarrassing to watch, for example here the petulant tirade against god; what kind of god creates only in order to destroy, why doesn't he spare us the pain? Well, precisely the god, meant broadly, the universe that creates again. How selfish, how religiously salvational, exactly the thing he rants against, to think it was all going to last forever!

He favors stark allegories, and this is one of the least subtle he has delivered: distinctions between tyranny and freedom as the ways to govern the world madhouse. We see one, then the other, always with an eye on the world at large, or so it goes.

There is one interesting bit in all this, a clever staging; a tableaux vivant that recreates Delacroix's 'Liberty', where inmates who are ostensibly free to be as creatively mad as they want are marshaled into position as living props. During the stageshow later, one of them actually attacks in a fit of lust the woman portraying liberty. Of course unbound freedom can spawn its own despots, we're meant to take this lesson ambiguously.

It's all wrapped in Poe; 'Premature Burial' as backstory attached to de Sade, a pendulum shot, the main thrust is from 'Doctor Tarr and Professor Fether'. And there is an experimental short woven through the film, typical Svankmajer stuff that he does best about animated slabs of meat trying to enter the narrative, or substituting for insights that can't be articulated there.

But it's never quite as erudite as it would like to be. The final image is unremittingly blunt; modern man as another slab of meat in a long row, a prepackaged exhibit suffocating in his modern cellophane wrap.

I suggest you watch instead The Hourglass Sanatorium, another Eastern European film about a damaged man mingling with madness in an effort to restore in him parts missing - the quest in both is for subconscious images of a parent. But that film unswathed in a dozen different layers, offering on the whole the purely symbolic construct of a graven image, but as a space of metaphysical contemplation on the placement of the soul in the cosmic grind. Here, it's one allegory broken out in so many authoritarian asides.

Jan Svankmajer is one director to imaginatively combine real life images with the inventive use of stop motion animation that produces grotesque and nightmarish images that unnerve the viewer. LUNACY is further proof of this and its influence of Edgar Allen Poe and Marquis De Sade is perfect for the vision of Svankmajer. Its story concerns an innocent young man, travelling home from his mothers funeral who spends some time with a wealthy man, known only as the Marquis (possibly the Marquis De Sade). The young man bears witness to the Marquis' debauched and blasphemous rituals and after some philosophical discussion over the rights and wrongs of man and religion, the young man under the request of the Marquis goes undercover into an insane asylum and falls under the spell of a women who insists that he helps her release the actual warders and doctors who are locked away, as the inmates are running the asylum. The film is a bizarre yet brilliant look at a world gone insane, where fear, punishment and madness is ruling and no one is in charge and whoever is in charge is corrupted by there own absolute power and twisted morality. The stop motion animation interludes add to the grotesque and surreal nature of the film and even offers it to comparisons with the body horror films of David Cronenberg. Overall its an art house horror that provides the viewer an uneasy yet unforgettable journey into insanity.