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How entertaining? ★★★☆☆
Thought provoking? ★★☆☆☆ 2 September 2016
A movie review of WE ARE THE FLESH. |
“There is no such thing as love; only demonstrations of love,” Fauna (María Evoli)
Incest. Necrophilia. Cannibalism. A movie trying so hard to shock it actually becomes laughable. One never would've thought one would write this: There is so much graphic sex that it actually gets a bit boring. By the climactic orgy, with classical music playing over the top, patience was about up for the 79-minute runtime. Luckily, WE ARE THE FLESH quickly concludes, a twist reveal that doesn't particularly surprise. If you want to see something transgressive, grim and intentionally hilarious, check out director Kim Ki-duk’s messed up MOEBIUS.
The movie lives up to the title. Sex and violence. Blood. Cardboard. Wait. What? In an abandoned building that is the sole venue for 99 per cent of the story (a word used in the loosest sense of the word), a dishevelled bearded man (Noé Hernández) uses cardboard to distil some kind of liquid, which he trades for food he doesn't eat. The trader is unseen. There is a lot of repetition: Duct tape winding, smashing up a table, panting. (Without it would the film even count as feature length?) His monotony and ours is broken by the arrival of a young man and woman. They appear to be a couple and without abode. Economically WE ARE THE FLESH sets up the question, are we watching the homeless marginalised, or is this science fiction apocalypse territory?
Incest. Necrophilia. Cannibalism. A movie trying so hard to shock it actually becomes laughable. One never would've thought one would write this: There is so much graphic sex that it actually gets a bit boring. By the climactic orgy, with classical music playing over the top, patience was about up for the 79-minute runtime. Luckily, WE ARE THE FLESH quickly concludes, a twist reveal that doesn't particularly surprise. If you want to see something transgressive, grim and intentionally hilarious, check out director Kim Ki-duk’s messed up MOEBIUS.
The movie lives up to the title. Sex and violence. Blood. Cardboard. Wait. What? In an abandoned building that is the sole venue for 99 per cent of the story (a word used in the loosest sense of the word), a dishevelled bearded man (Noé Hernández) uses cardboard to distil some kind of liquid, which he trades for food he doesn't eat. The trader is unseen. There is a lot of repetition: Duct tape winding, smashing up a table, panting. (Without it would the film even count as feature length?) His monotony and ours is broken by the arrival of a young man and woman. They appear to be a couple and without abode. Economically WE ARE THE FLESH sets up the question, are we watching the homeless marginalised, or is this science fiction apocalypse territory?
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The bearded guy who has claimed a floor of the block, a man whose name we don't appear to find out, is either mentally ill, some sort of prognosticator, or perhaps a supernatural malicious spirit. His character is never clarified, refreshingly. In exchange for food and shelter, bearded guy ropes in the duo to help create an internal structure, which turns out to be a primordial-looking wood and cardboard cave in a room (continually bathed in red without an obvious light source. Metaphor alert!).
Turns out the young adults are siblings, yet the bearded guy encourages them to have sex. Their corruption ensues, leaving little to the imagination. Is he the snake in the garden? Amid the graphic scenes, including Fauna (María Evoli) dripping period blood into the mouth of her brother Lucio (short for Lucifer (Diego Gamaliel)), bearded guy mumbles pseudo-philosophical nonsense that one often tuned out of (reminding of director Carlos Reygadas' interminable flicks).
Is WE ARE THE FLESH an intentionally funny comedy spoof or a substandard horror? One suspects the latter.
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