Lunacy

Surrealism is alive and well in Czech animator Jan Svankmajer's aptly titled live-action weird-fest, in which the lunatics are most definitely running the asylum. Described by Svankmajer as “a philosophical horror film” and “an infantile tribute to Edgar Allan Poe” that “owes its blasphemy and subversiveness to the Marquis de Sade,” this is one of those deliriously unhinged movies that looks, feels, and sounds genuinely insane for all the right artistic reasons. Set in a 19th-century France rife with anachronisms (like a modern freeway, or a computer keyboard amidst vintage props and implements), the film opens with Jean Berlot (Pavel Liska) returning from his mother's funeral only to be taken in by the Marquis (Jan Triska), a braying aristocrat whose "hospitality" ultimately leads them to a nearby asylum, where the patients run free and the staff have been tarred, feathered, and locked in a cell. Interspersed throughout this escalating and frequently ribald madness are stop-motion vignettes involving animated pig's feet, slithering cow tongues, slippery brains, and a variety of raw meats, all cavorting in a metaphorical comment on the butchery of human existence. Does it all add up? Not entirely. But Lunacy is quite a visceral viewing experience (and a perfect companion to William Peter Blatty's 1980 cult-favorite The Ninth Configuration, another unique film that crosses the boundaries of sanity). Recommended, overall. [Note: DVD extras include a 15-minute “making-of” featurette, a behind-the-scenes photo gallery, a text interview with director Jan Svankmajer, and trailers. Bottom line: a small but solid extras package for a bizarre film.] (J. Shannon)