La Chambre interdite

On the face of it, this silly story within story romp through Saturday morning films of a previous generation should be ignored.

It is not a pastiche - and the strange punk lurid dream style is both art and annoyance. But the style is to no useful end.

And to force an audience to revisit bad early American cinema 'somewhere between Berlin and Bogotá' for 2 hours, with gentle mocking of early 20th century sexual strictures, is quite unfair.

It plays out as being more appropriate for a repeating segment in a high concept sketch show than a cinema production. A short experiment of 15 minutes maybe. But to inflict real people to this at full film length seems strangely tragic.

I had a strange experience with this one. I was ready to walk out after an hour or so (and many people did walk out)...but I'm glad I didn't. It simply takes time to see that there is a structure behind all this madness and different story layers do fit in together and compose a meaningful whole.

To be fair, this one is definitely not for everyone. It requires patience and at least some kind of appreciation towards the absurd to really get into this film. But it can reward you if you give it a try. For a lack of better comparison, I would mention INLAND EMPIRE here (not that the methods used by Maddin/Johnson are similar to Lynch's...but the overall effect is somewhat close to it). In the end, both of those movies build themselves into some kind of emotional rapture which overcomes the analytical mind.

Or maybe you'll simply hate this movie, which is pretty likely too.

It's the kind of film that art house film students dream of. In fact visually it looks very much like an art house film students dream! There's text all over the screen, bits of narration and a truly bizarre story. It's pretty original, it's funny (I think intentionally) and it's nuts. Totally nuts!! Sadly a bit too nuts, good but not great. It sometimes feels like a silent film, with words appearing to help the narrative... but with sound. Some of it struggles and needs some patience, but by enlarge it's fantastic, in every sense of the word. The screen pulses and throbs with energy, it's beautifully crafted. Stories intermingle, twist, plots within plots, within dreams. My one criticism is it's too long, not by a lot, but it would benefit from losing a good 20 minutes. A minor quibble.

This film, like all those of Guy Maddin, has married the weirdness of David Lynch with the love of film and quirkiness of Wes Anderson, all wrapped up in a unique visual style like no other. It's absolutely gorgeous, a true adventure in filmmaking and film watching filled with dreams- within-dreams and stories-within-stories. It is like a love letter to the history of movies that blends silent films, noir, action, myth, comedy, musicals, and even instructional films into an absurd, self-referential ball.

But before you go running out to see it, you should know that it has zero interest in entertaining you. Seriously. It's dense, confusing and difficult to follow, and a tedious slog. There's no plot, if by plot you mean something that will emotionally resonate with you and keep you engaged with following the story or characters. Viewers should be the kind of masochist film geeks who enjoy subjecting themselves to such pain and then feel enlightened for doing so.

I admire the film making and the art direction for The Forbidden Room, but while it initially dazzles, it quickly becomes rather tedious. There is no real payoff for the effort it takes to sit through it, and it does take some effort. The most entertaining part for me is the opening titles. The only movie I can compare it to is Stalker, and it isn't a fair comparison. While both share the washed-out, sepia tone Lynch-like visual style, Stalker has a discernible plot beyond just its style. I'd love to intellectualize the film and say it has deeper meaning, but outside of the art direction and distressed film look, after sitting through it I've decided there is just no "there" there.