RubberNo reason--that is the avowed "stylistic quality" to which Rubber ostensibly pays homage. A tire...the absurd metafilm by filmmaker Quentin Dupieux is the story a tire, animated by some unknown force and possessed of psychokinetic (not telepathic) powers, which goes on a killing spree in a community on the edge of the Mojave desert. Sounds simple enough. But, wait, there's more! While "Robert" (the tire, playing himself) rolls through the desert causing havoc, he is watched by an audience--not unlike us...actually, they are us--attempting to piece together the enigma that is Rubber.
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I first saw Rubber at the Cleveland International Film Festival--which is excellent if you have the chance to check it out--and was taken aback at how delightfully silly it is, but also how knowing it is about filmgoing audiences as well. I described the film as "meta"--a prefix to indicate that the film is itself about film, or that it at least knows it's a film. Rubber, by the means of one of the characters (and presenter), Lieutenant Chad (Stephen Spinella), begins in about as cryptically a way, as if trying to consciously avoid making sense, albeit with a fantastic and nonsensical monologue about the one consistent quality of great films: that they have things in them that happen "for no reason". While the idea that films like Roman Polanski's The Pianist and "the excellent" Texas Chainsaw Massacre by Tobe Hooper are filled with things that make no sense is ridiculous, and that they are great as a result (by Chad's assertion) is played for yuks, but it is also a kind of comedy that drives the inner plot of the movie. A psychic killer tire? Really? Even Chad--one of the very few participants who is fully aware that he is a character in the movie--balks at the absurdity of the premise, but plays along with the ruse. Why? Because for him, it's a job...it's just one he doesn't seem to really like, and is looking for an easy way out.
Rubber may be silly, and designed to poke fun at campy cheapo horror flicks, but the film's production values are actually quite good, and the visual and sound effects are entertaining. (It's a little hard to write about the film, and not feel like one of those audience members with the binoculars...no, I would not like any turkey, thank you.) Little touches and motions of the tire make the seemingly impossible task of conveying subtext about a rubber wheel somehow plausible. Robert doesn't start out bad, but maybe it's something in his brand that fosters that diabolical urge to blow stuff up--conveniently enough for him (it's a him, right?), he can work some wild "Goodyear" magic. Rubber is chock-full of sight gags, principally hinging upon the absurdity of a tire engaging in human behavior, like watching tv, going for a swim, and peeping on a pretty girl as she takes a shower. In most other movies, "the girl", credited as "Sheila" (Roxane Mesquida), might be somebody's romantic interest, or a heroine. But in this story, she just happens to be around when Robert emerges from his arid birthing ground. It's a story which one of the observers in a wheelchair (Wings Hauser) points out "wasn't very good...but at least [he] could follow it". That's part of the charm; we, as the audience, chuckle at the silliness and the abject "badness" of it, but appreciate that nudge-nudge from Dupieux--mostly via Chad--about the quality of the plot...or lack thereof. And as the lines blur between the overarching story of the audience and the wholly weird tale of tires, motels, and murder, some outstanding lines of dialogue slip out that an attentive audience to the humor Rubber revels in will be bouncing with amusement, rolling on the floor laughing, and plenty of other terrible tire-themed metaphors I'll refrain from inflicting upon you...I'm a little tired of it, anyway. Ha.
Recommended for: Fans of a comedy both very clever and very silly, with some sharp and crisp technical skill applied to a film that superficially wouldn't get this kind of treatment. And you don't even need to go out into the desert with a sleeping bag to see it.
Rubber may be silly, and designed to poke fun at campy cheapo horror flicks, but the film's production values are actually quite good, and the visual and sound effects are entertaining. (It's a little hard to write about the film, and not feel like one of those audience members with the binoculars...no, I would not like any turkey, thank you.) Little touches and motions of the tire make the seemingly impossible task of conveying subtext about a rubber wheel somehow plausible. Robert doesn't start out bad, but maybe it's something in his brand that fosters that diabolical urge to blow stuff up--conveniently enough for him (it's a him, right?), he can work some wild "Goodyear" magic. Rubber is chock-full of sight gags, principally hinging upon the absurdity of a tire engaging in human behavior, like watching tv, going for a swim, and peeping on a pretty girl as she takes a shower. In most other movies, "the girl", credited as "Sheila" (Roxane Mesquida), might be somebody's romantic interest, or a heroine. But in this story, she just happens to be around when Robert emerges from his arid birthing ground. It's a story which one of the observers in a wheelchair (Wings Hauser) points out "wasn't very good...but at least [he] could follow it". That's part of the charm; we, as the audience, chuckle at the silliness and the abject "badness" of it, but appreciate that nudge-nudge from Dupieux--mostly via Chad--about the quality of the plot...or lack thereof. And as the lines blur between the overarching story of the audience and the wholly weird tale of tires, motels, and murder, some outstanding lines of dialogue slip out that an attentive audience to the humor Rubber revels in will be bouncing with amusement, rolling on the floor laughing, and plenty of other terrible tire-themed metaphors I'll refrain from inflicting upon you...I'm a little tired of it, anyway. Ha.
Recommended for: Fans of a comedy both very clever and very silly, with some sharp and crisp technical skill applied to a film that superficially wouldn't get this kind of treatment. And you don't even need to go out into the desert with a sleeping bag to see it.