The Lobster (2016, R)

The Lobster is this year’s “quirky indie film” entry in the Best Original Screenplay category (see also, Midnight in Paris, In Bruges, Moonrise Kingdom, and so forth.)  There’s usually at least one, although I think this film is quite a bit more out-there than usual.  It’s totally bizarre and more than a little disturbing, but it’s also a fascinating movie with a sensibility that’s all its own.

In the City (solid name for any dystopian locale,) being single isn’t an option.  Anyone who finds themselves without a partner, whether through death or falling out of love, is sent to the Hotel, where they have 45 days in which to find a new partner.  If they fail, they’re transformed into the animal of their choice.  David is one such unfortunate single person, and his time at the Hotel is marked equally by awkwardness, embarrassment, deception, serious head trips, and some farily callous violence.

This is such an intriguing, frakked-up story.  All the little details fascinate me.  How this law affects the animal kingdom – many choose to become dogs and cats, so there are plenty of those, but few pick something rare, which is why those animals are endangered.  The way the singles immediately search for some common ground they can latch onto, particularly a physical characteristic (shortsightedness, a limp, frequent nosebleeds,) apparently not able (or not allowed?) to form an attachment without some arbitrary similarity.  The seeming re-programming conducted by the staff at the Hotel, urging partnership largely as a safety measure – someone to prevent choking, rape, etc. – rather than something that enriches one’s life.  The macabre means by which someone can extend their 45-day time limit.  It goes on and on.

I also really enjoy the dialogue itself and the acting that goes with it.  No details are given on how society became like this, but the same sterile behavior is shown in singles and couples alike.  Everyone speaks in a stilted, highly-factual manner, tending to recite at someone rather than converse with them, and there’s a placidity to everyone’s delivery that belies the absurd minutiae they spout or the sometimes-outrageous things they say (sexual propositions are made as blandly as one would discuss the merits of various brands of toothpaste.)  Really interesting to see how a society that has made “love” compulsory has resulted in people who speak mostly by rote, seem to calculate love rather than feel it, and appear largely detached from their emotions.

Colin Farrell stars as David, who somehow manages to be incurably awkward, relentlessly boring, moderately pathetic, and yet almost entirely rootable all at the same time.  I’m really impressed with his work here as this rather lugubrious dish rag, and bonus points for letting himself look a bit schlubby in the process.  The film also features good work from a bevy of talented actors, including Rachel Weisz, Ben Whishaw (Richard II in The Hollow Crown!), Olivia Colman (Broadchurch,) John C. Reilly, Ashley Jensen (Extras,) and Léa Seydoux (Blue is the Warmest Color.)

Warnings

Disturbing images, language, sexual content/references, and violence.