The Lobster (A-) Movie Review
In a (possibly futuristic) surreal, vaguely European landscape, newly single David (Colin Farrell) must check himself into a hotel with the purpose of finding a new mate, according to this society's strict rules. He does so, but with only 45 days to complete his mission or else be turned into an animal of his choosing, a lobster in this case, David finds the task very difficult.
Premiering at the Cannes Film Festival in 2015 and winning the Jury Prize, The Lobster has bounced around in the hands of distributors. Distribution company Alchemy had arranged to release the film in the U.S. in March of this year but due to financial struggles, rising distributor A24 bought the film and reassigned it a May release date.
We should all be grateful they did, as The Lobster is a seriously brilliant film and quite definitely Yorgos Lanthimos' best project to date, though I suspect many would argue Dogtooth to be his best film. I should discuss Lanthimos' career a bit because it's been a strange one. His first feature Dogtooth was a deeply disturbing but oddly intelligent allegorical fable about the dangers of parenthood. His second feature Attenberg was given very little attention by United States audiences and has generally gone forgotten. His third feature, Alps, dealt with the fascinating premise of a woman trying desperately to immerse herself in fabricated relationships but ultimately proved unsuccessful due to Lanthimos' signature style of detached surrealism.
It's quite easy to recognize a Lanthimos film when you're watching one: it will typically contain some form of awkward dancing, uncomfortable sex, and sudden bursts of extreme violence. In terms of performances, rarely will we see one that isn't aggressively deadpan. And although Colin Farrell undoubtedly gives a deadpan performance here, it's a shock to see him let out a few tears in one particular moment of the film. Because Lanthimos directs films from such a humanoid perspective, almost like an alien taking notes on the human race, crying seems oddly foreign. This moment alone is enough to signify that Lanthimos has adapted his style of filmmaking to suitably fit the romantic subject matter of The Lobster. It works, too. Where Alps failed, The Lobster soars in its ability to remain unabashedly romantic while never sacrificing Lanthimos' uncomfortable style to illustrate the oddities and absurdities of 21st century love.
The Lobster is indeed an exceedingly intelligent satire of modern love. But I hesitate to categorize the film, as it's unusually dense. It's not a broad film, but often tackles an intimidating amount of material. I also consider The Lobster to be a critique of monogamy, specifically our structure's normalization of monogamy and the formalized structure from which we begin relationships: we must have at least one thing in common, we begin with the goal to find a life partner, etc. Yorgos Lanthimos' critique of love in the modern world is as scathing as it is frequently hilarious.
As well as offering poignant insights into the idea of modern love, a large amount of dark humor is present. Because the film is so uncomfortable in its depiction of relationships, the film is absurdly funny in the most unexpected of ways: stilted dialogue between potential lovers, assigning children to troubled marriages, and the most awkward dancing imaginable when there is cause of celebration. It's a riotously funny film that will catch a lot of viewers off-guard, though this intensely dark sense of humor certainly won't appeal to everyone.
Colin Farrell brings most of the laughs as David, a bit of a shy guy who feels uncomfortable in the Hotel, where he must stay until he finds a mate. His brother was there a couple of years ago but "didn't make it" and is now a dog that follows David around. Farrell gives possibly the best performance of his career as David. He never strays from the deadpan tone that characterizes David but simultaneously allows us to invest in David's endearingly quirky personality. You will find yourself wishing what's best for David. Rachel Weisz delivers a lovely performance as David's girlfriend, as their relationship is frowned upon under harsh circumstances that I won't dive into for fear of spoiler territory. I dare say the two together are heartwarming.
Accompanying the uncommonly rich love story are beautiful visuals that make The Lobster a must-see in terms of theatrical viewing. Cinematographer Thimios Bakatakis beautifully juxtaposes the harshly modernized Hotel with the raw, primal aesthetic of The Woods, which play in important part in David's quest for some form of love. They're too very different aesthetics that represent an exaggerated version of the modern world (the Hotel) and the most primal environment from which all humans originated (the Woods).
I have one small problem with the film. When the narrative shifts and David focuses his attention towards the Woods, the film loses its way a bit before Rachel Weisz becomes romantically involved with David. The rules of the Woods must be established, but they feel less sharp and relevant than those of the Hotel. It's a brief lull in the film, but truthfully, the film never runs out of steam.
The Lobster is a film so biting in its satire, so frequently hilarious, so breathtakingly honest, and so unexpectedly romantic that one can't help but be astounded. This is a special film, one of the most beautiful love stories in recent memory and one of the most blazingly original social critiques of the new millennium. The Lobster is truly an excellent choice.
FINAL GRADE: A-
MPAA RATING: R for sexual content including dialogue, and some violence
Premiering at the Cannes Film Festival in 2015 and winning the Jury Prize, The Lobster has bounced around in the hands of distributors. Distribution company Alchemy had arranged to release the film in the U.S. in March of this year but due to financial struggles, rising distributor A24 bought the film and reassigned it a May release date.
We should all be grateful they did, as The Lobster is a seriously brilliant film and quite definitely Yorgos Lanthimos' best project to date, though I suspect many would argue Dogtooth to be his best film. I should discuss Lanthimos' career a bit because it's been a strange one. His first feature Dogtooth was a deeply disturbing but oddly intelligent allegorical fable about the dangers of parenthood. His second feature Attenberg was given very little attention by United States audiences and has generally gone forgotten. His third feature, Alps, dealt with the fascinating premise of a woman trying desperately to immerse herself in fabricated relationships but ultimately proved unsuccessful due to Lanthimos' signature style of detached surrealism.
It's quite easy to recognize a Lanthimos film when you're watching one: it will typically contain some form of awkward dancing, uncomfortable sex, and sudden bursts of extreme violence. In terms of performances, rarely will we see one that isn't aggressively deadpan. And although Colin Farrell undoubtedly gives a deadpan performance here, it's a shock to see him let out a few tears in one particular moment of the film. Because Lanthimos directs films from such a humanoid perspective, almost like an alien taking notes on the human race, crying seems oddly foreign. This moment alone is enough to signify that Lanthimos has adapted his style of filmmaking to suitably fit the romantic subject matter of The Lobster. It works, too. Where Alps failed, The Lobster soars in its ability to remain unabashedly romantic while never sacrificing Lanthimos' uncomfortable style to illustrate the oddities and absurdities of 21st century love.
The Lobster is indeed an exceedingly intelligent satire of modern love. But I hesitate to categorize the film, as it's unusually dense. It's not a broad film, but often tackles an intimidating amount of material. I also consider The Lobster to be a critique of monogamy, specifically our structure's normalization of monogamy and the formalized structure from which we begin relationships: we must have at least one thing in common, we begin with the goal to find a life partner, etc. Yorgos Lanthimos' critique of love in the modern world is as scathing as it is frequently hilarious.
As well as offering poignant insights into the idea of modern love, a large amount of dark humor is present. Because the film is so uncomfortable in its depiction of relationships, the film is absurdly funny in the most unexpected of ways: stilted dialogue between potential lovers, assigning children to troubled marriages, and the most awkward dancing imaginable when there is cause of celebration. It's a riotously funny film that will catch a lot of viewers off-guard, though this intensely dark sense of humor certainly won't appeal to everyone.
Colin Farrell brings most of the laughs as David, a bit of a shy guy who feels uncomfortable in the Hotel, where he must stay until he finds a mate. His brother was there a couple of years ago but "didn't make it" and is now a dog that follows David around. Farrell gives possibly the best performance of his career as David. He never strays from the deadpan tone that characterizes David but simultaneously allows us to invest in David's endearingly quirky personality. You will find yourself wishing what's best for David. Rachel Weisz delivers a lovely performance as David's girlfriend, as their relationship is frowned upon under harsh circumstances that I won't dive into for fear of spoiler territory. I dare say the two together are heartwarming.
Accompanying the uncommonly rich love story are beautiful visuals that make The Lobster a must-see in terms of theatrical viewing. Cinematographer Thimios Bakatakis beautifully juxtaposes the harshly modernized Hotel with the raw, primal aesthetic of The Woods, which play in important part in David's quest for some form of love. They're too very different aesthetics that represent an exaggerated version of the modern world (the Hotel) and the most primal environment from which all humans originated (the Woods).
I have one small problem with the film. When the narrative shifts and David focuses his attention towards the Woods, the film loses its way a bit before Rachel Weisz becomes romantically involved with David. The rules of the Woods must be established, but they feel less sharp and relevant than those of the Hotel. It's a brief lull in the film, but truthfully, the film never runs out of steam.
The Lobster is a film so biting in its satire, so frequently hilarious, so breathtakingly honest, and so unexpectedly romantic that one can't help but be astounded. This is a special film, one of the most beautiful love stories in recent memory and one of the most blazingly original social critiques of the new millennium. The Lobster is truly an excellent choice.
FINAL GRADE: A-
MPAA RATING: R for sexual content including dialogue, and some violence