If John Waters and Ken Russell ever got together to shoot a remake of Pasolini´s "Salo" it might look like Dusan Makavejev´s "Sweet Movie" (1974). That Waters/Russell project sounds like a lot of fun (I´m picturing Divine dressed as a nun and sitting on a toilet), but "Sweet Movie" is something a little less than fun. It has its charming, even outright hilarious moments, but they´re tough to spot in a film whose characters split their time between micturating and defecating.
"Sweet Movie" was Makavejev´s follow-up to the outrageous and successful "WR: Mysteries of the Organism." This time out, the director pushes right past the boundaries of social taboo into a film designed to shock a lazy bourgeoisie audience. Frequently, films created for shock value don´t age well as one generation´s transgressive behavior becomes the next generation´s mainstream entertainment ("Psycho" riled censors for daring to show a flushing toilet on screen), but Makavejev´s film is still pretty outré even by modern standards.
As with "WR," the film stitches together several different narrative strands into one, though in this case the documentary content is minimal (but quite effective, as discussed below). The film begins with the Miss World 1984 contest (situating it, I suppose, as science-fiction film since the movie was released in 1974) in which the most beautiful virgins throughout the world compete from the privilege of marrying the world´s most eligible bachelor, the grotesque Mr. Dollars (John Vernon). Each contestant is paraded on stage and then examined by a gynecologist to assure her hymen is intact. Ms. Canada (the very beautiful and very brave Carole Laure) is the "lucky" winner and is spirited off for a whirlwind honeymoon with her filthy rich hubby. The wedding night holds a terrible shock for naïve Ms. Canada, involving a certain sickening surprise regarding her husband´s anatomy. Hint: think "Austin Powers 3."
Meanwhile, Captain Anna Planeta (Anna Prucnal) pilots the ship "Survival," featuring a massive image of Karl Marx´s head on the prow, through the canals of Amsterdam. She is visited by a sailor from the Battleship Potemkin (Pierre Clementi) who arrives (possibly back from the dead) not only to board the ship, but also to board the lonely Captain. Eventually, they make love in a giant vat of sugar.
Poor Ms. Canada is punished for rejected her wealthy scion of a husband, and is packed off into a suitcase to be exiled to Paris where, of course, she makes love to a Spanish film singer. They do the nasty in public and wind up literally getting stuck together, requiring immediate surgery which plunges her into a semi-catatonic state. Then things get strange.
Makavejev uses his bizarre post-modern mashup to satirize both capitalism and communism, though the critique may not translate well for audiences unfamiliar with Eastern Europe´s experience behind the Iron Curtain. As the film progresses, Makavejev focuses more and more relentless on the human body and particular body functions. The barely-conscious Ms. Canada arrives in a commune whose members spend all their time eating, drinking, vomiting, pissing, and shitting. On plates. Which they show off to each other as if they had just crapped out The Pieta. Many viewers will check out during this sequence, which takes up almost the last third of the film, save for a final scene in which a naked Ms. Canada is immersed in chocolate for an advertising campaign ("I want people to think they´re eating you.") Apparently, even the game Ms. Laure checked out this point; unable to handle the gross-out factor of the extended commune sequence, she walked off the set.
The film´s title is certainly intended ironically, but it´s also got a ring of authenticity. Through all the sex, viscera, and excretions, the characters exude an aura of innocence and joy, as if declaring that no matter what political system attempts to oppress them, they´ve still got their bodies, and they´re still alive. One of the film´s central songs asks "Is there life after birth?" The answer is yes, and it is best lived vigorously and without limitations, either self-imposed or otherwise. Here, it is perhaps better to be pissed on than pissed off, at least if that´s what you´re into.
In this ejaculatory mess, it´s easy to miss Makavejev´s strategic placement of brief documentary snippets of the Katyn Forest massacre. In 1940, Soviet authorities (on Stalin´s orders) authorized the mass execution of thousands of Polish citizens; in 1943 Germans uncovered evidence of mass graves. Makavejev inserts footage of the mass exhumation at certain points, which to me seems like a direct challenge to audiences and censors who were outraged by the film´s sexual and scatological content. How twisted and clueless do you have to be to be offended by a little piss and shit (OK, more than a little) in a world in which such tragedies happen? If only the Soviet butchers could have gotten into a little harmless S&M, a whole lot more people would still be alive today.
"Sweet Movie" is not nearly the success that "WR" was. As a challenge to societal conventions, it has its place, but unlike "WR," the film feels post-modern by the Moe Szyslak definition of the term: "Weird for the sake of being weird." The commune scenes certainly succeed in terms of pure shock value, but the film´s taboo-busting energy is dissipated by the over-the-top eccentricity of many of the characters, esp. Mr. Dollars and his hag-from-hell mother. Carole Laure is a real trooper, though, the bravest actress this side of Divine (yes, I´m obsessed), and the photography by the great Pierre Lhomme (Lhomme is truly "the man") is worth the price of admission all by itself.
"Sweet Movie" was Makavejev´s follow-up to the outrageous and successful "WR: Mysteries of the Organism." This time out, the director pushes right past the boundaries of social taboo into a film designed to shock a lazy bourgeoisie audience. Frequently, films created for shock value don´t age well as one generation´s transgressive behavior becomes the next generation´s mainstream entertainment ("Psycho" riled censors for daring to show a flushing toilet on screen), but Makavejev´s film is still pretty outré even by modern standards.
As with "WR," the film stitches together several different narrative strands into one, though in this case the documentary content is minimal (but quite effective, as discussed below). The film begins with the Miss World 1984 contest (situating it, I suppose, as science-fiction film since the movie was released in 1974) in which the most beautiful virgins throughout the world compete from the privilege of marrying the world´s most eligible bachelor, the grotesque Mr. Dollars (John Vernon). Each contestant is paraded on stage and then examined by a gynecologist to assure her hymen is intact. Ms. Canada (the very beautiful and very brave Carole Laure) is the "lucky" winner and is spirited off for a whirlwind honeymoon with her filthy rich hubby. The wedding night holds a terrible shock for naïve Ms. Canada, involving a certain sickening surprise regarding her husband´s anatomy. Hint: think "Austin Powers 3."
Meanwhile, Captain Anna Planeta (Anna Prucnal) pilots the ship "Survival," featuring a massive image of Karl Marx´s head on the prow, through the canals of Amsterdam. She is visited by a sailor from the Battleship Potemkin (Pierre Clementi) who arrives (possibly back from the dead) not only to board the ship, but also to board the lonely Captain. Eventually, they make love in a giant vat of sugar.
Poor Ms. Canada is punished for rejected her wealthy scion of a husband, and is packed off into a suitcase to be exiled to Paris where, of course, she makes love to a Spanish film singer. They do the nasty in public and wind up literally getting stuck together, requiring immediate surgery which plunges her into a semi-catatonic state. Then things get strange.
Makavejev uses his bizarre post-modern mashup to satirize both capitalism and communism, though the critique may not translate well for audiences unfamiliar with Eastern Europe´s experience behind the Iron Curtain. As the film progresses, Makavejev focuses more and more relentless on the human body and particular body functions. The barely-conscious Ms. Canada arrives in a commune whose members spend all their time eating, drinking, vomiting, pissing, and shitting. On plates. Which they show off to each other as if they had just crapped out The Pieta. Many viewers will check out during this sequence, which takes up almost the last third of the film, save for a final scene in which a naked Ms. Canada is immersed in chocolate for an advertising campaign ("I want people to think they´re eating you.") Apparently, even the game Ms. Laure checked out this point; unable to handle the gross-out factor of the extended commune sequence, she walked off the set.
The film´s title is certainly intended ironically, but it´s also got a ring of authenticity. Through all the sex, viscera, and excretions, the characters exude an aura of innocence and joy, as if declaring that no matter what political system attempts to oppress them, they´ve still got their bodies, and they´re still alive. One of the film´s central songs asks "Is there life after birth?" The answer is yes, and it is best lived vigorously and without limitations, either self-imposed or otherwise. Here, it is perhaps better to be pissed on than pissed off, at least if that´s what you´re into.
In this ejaculatory mess, it´s easy to miss Makavejev´s strategic placement of brief documentary snippets of the Katyn Forest massacre. In 1940, Soviet authorities (on Stalin´s orders) authorized the mass execution of thousands of Polish citizens; in 1943 Germans uncovered evidence of mass graves. Makavejev inserts footage of the mass exhumation at certain points, which to me seems like a direct challenge to audiences and censors who were outraged by the film´s sexual and scatological content. How twisted and clueless do you have to be to be offended by a little piss and shit (OK, more than a little) in a world in which such tragedies happen? If only the Soviet butchers could have gotten into a little harmless S&M, a whole lot more people would still be alive today.
"Sweet Movie" is not nearly the success that "WR" was. As a challenge to societal conventions, it has its place, but unlike "WR," the film feels post-modern by the Moe Szyslak definition of the term: "Weird for the sake of being weird." The commune scenes certainly succeed in terms of pure shock value, but the film´s taboo-busting energy is dissipated by the over-the-top eccentricity of many of the characters, esp. Mr. Dollars and his hag-from-hell mother. Carole Laure is a real trooper, though, the bravest actress this side of Divine (yes, I´m obsessed), and the photography by the great Pierre Lhomme (Lhomme is truly "the man") is worth the price of admission all by itself.
If John Waters and Ken Russell ever got together to shoot a remake of Pasolini´s "Salo" it might look like Dusan Makavejev´s "Sweet Movie" (1974). That Waters/Russell project sounds like a lot of fun (I´m picturing Divine dressed as a nun and sitting on a toilet), but "Sweet Movie" is something a little less than fun. It has its charming, even outright hilarious moments, but they´re tough to spot in a film whose characters split their time between micturating and defecating.
"Sweet Movie" was Makavejev´s follow-up to the outrageous and successful "WR: Mysteries of the Organism." This time out, the director pushes right past the boundaries of social taboo into a film designed to shock a lazy bourgeoisie audience. Frequently, films created for shock value don´t age well as one generation´s transgressive behavior becomes the next generation´s mainstream entertainment ("Psycho" riled censors for daring to show a flushing toilet on screen), but Makavejev´s film is still pretty outré even by modern standards.
As with "WR," the film stitches together several different narrative strands into one, though in this case the documentary content is minimal (but quite effective, as discussed below). The film begins with the Miss World 1984 contest (situating it, I suppose, as science-fiction film since the movie was released in 1974) in which the most beautiful virgins throughout the world compete from the privilege of marrying the world´s most eligible bachelor, the grotesque Mr. Dollars (John Vernon). Each contestant is paraded on stage and then examined by a gynecologist to assure her hymen is intact. Ms. Canada (the very beautiful and very brave Carole Laure) is the "lucky" winner and is spirited off for a whirlwind honeymoon with her filthy rich hubby. The wedding night holds a terrible shock for naïve Ms. Canada, involving a certain sickening surprise regarding her husband´s anatomy. Hint: think "Austin Powers 3."
Meanwhile, Captain Anna Planeta (Anna Prucnal) pilots the ship "Survival," featuring a massive image of Karl Marx´s head on the prow, through the canals of Amsterdam. She is visited by a sailor from the Battleship Potemkin (Pierre Clementi) who arrives (possibly back from the dead) not only to board the ship, but also to board the lonely Captain. Eventually, they make love in a giant vat of sugar.
Poor Ms. Canada is punished for rejected her wealthy scion of a husband, and is packed off into a suitcase to be exiled to Paris where, of course, she makes love to a Spanish film singer. They do the nasty in public and wind up literally getting stuck together, requiring immediate surgery which plunges her into a semi-catatonic state. Then things get strange.
Makavejev uses his bizarre post-modern mashup to satirize both capitalism and communism, though the critique may not translate well for audiences unfamiliar with Eastern Europe´s experience behind the Iron Curtain. As the film progresses, Makavejev focuses more and more relentless on the human body and particular body functions. The barely-conscious Ms. Canada arrives in a commune whose members spend all their time eating, drinking, vomiting, pissing, and shitting. On plates. Which they show off to each other as if they had just crapped out The Pieta. Many viewers will check out during this sequence, which takes up almost the last third of the film, save for a final scene in which a naked Ms. Canada is immersed in chocolate for an advertising campaign ("I want people to think they´re eating you.") Apparently, even the game Ms. Laure checked out this point; unable to handle the gross-out factor of the extended commune sequence, she walked off the set.
The film´s title is certainly intended ironically, but it´s also got a ring of authenticity. Through all the sex, viscera, and excretions, the characters exude an aura of innocence and joy, as if declaring that no matter what political system attempts to oppress them, they´ve still got their bodies, and they´re still alive. One of the film´s central songs asks "Is there life after birth?" The answer is yes, and it is best lived vigorously and without limitations, either self-imposed or otherwise. Here, it is perhaps better to be pissed on than pissed off, at least if that´s what you´re into.
In this ejaculatory mess, it´s easy to miss Makavejev´s strategic placement of brief documentary snippets of the Katyn Forest massacre. In 1940, Soviet authorities (on Stalin´s orders) authorized the mass execution of thousands of Polish citizens; in 1943 Germans uncovered evidence of mass graves. Makavejev inserts footage of the mass exhumation at certain points, which to me seems like a direct challenge to audiences and censors who were outraged by the film´s sexual and scatological content. How twisted and clueless do you have to be to be offended by a little piss and shit (OK, more than a little) in a world in which such tragedies happen? If only the Soviet butchers could have gotten into a little harmless S&M, a whole lot more people would still be alive today.
"Sweet Movie" is not nearly the success that "WR" was. As a challenge to societal conventions, it has its place, but unlike "WR," the film feels post-modern by the Moe Szyslak definition of the term: "Weird for the sake of being weird." The commune scenes certainly succeed in terms of pure shock value, but the film´s taboo-busting energy is dissipated by the over-the-top eccentricity of many of the characters, esp. Mr. Dollars and his hag-from-hell mother. Carole Laure is a real trooper, though, the bravest actress this side of Divine (yes, I´m obsessed), and the photography by the great Pierre Lhomme (Lhomme is truly "the man") is worth the price of admission all by itself.
"Sweet Movie" was Makavejev´s follow-up to the outrageous and successful "WR: Mysteries of the Organism." This time out, the director pushes right past the boundaries of social taboo into a film designed to shock a lazy bourgeoisie audience. Frequently, films created for shock value don´t age well as one generation´s transgressive behavior becomes the next generation´s mainstream entertainment ("Psycho" riled censors for daring to show a flushing toilet on screen), but Makavejev´s film is still pretty outré even by modern standards.
As with "WR," the film stitches together several different narrative strands into one, though in this case the documentary content is minimal (but quite effective, as discussed below). The film begins with the Miss World 1984 contest (situating it, I suppose, as science-fiction film since the movie was released in 1974) in which the most beautiful virgins throughout the world compete from the privilege of marrying the world´s most eligible bachelor, the grotesque Mr. Dollars (John Vernon). Each contestant is paraded on stage and then examined by a gynecologist to assure her hymen is intact. Ms. Canada (the very beautiful and very brave Carole Laure) is the "lucky" winner and is spirited off for a whirlwind honeymoon with her filthy rich hubby. The wedding night holds a terrible shock for naïve Ms. Canada, involving a certain sickening surprise regarding her husband´s anatomy. Hint: think "Austin Powers 3."
Meanwhile, Captain Anna Planeta (Anna Prucnal) pilots the ship "Survival," featuring a massive image of Karl Marx´s head on the prow, through the canals of Amsterdam. She is visited by a sailor from the Battleship Potemkin (Pierre Clementi) who arrives (possibly back from the dead) not only to board the ship, but also to board the lonely Captain. Eventually, they make love in a giant vat of sugar.
Poor Ms. Canada is punished for rejected her wealthy scion of a husband, and is packed off into a suitcase to be exiled to Paris where, of course, she makes love to a Spanish film singer. They do the nasty in public and wind up literally getting stuck together, requiring immediate surgery which plunges her into a semi-catatonic state. Then things get strange.
Makavejev uses his bizarre post-modern mashup to satirize both capitalism and communism, though the critique may not translate well for audiences unfamiliar with Eastern Europe´s experience behind the Iron Curtain. As the film progresses, Makavejev focuses more and more relentless on the human body and particular body functions. The barely-conscious Ms. Canada arrives in a commune whose members spend all their time eating, drinking, vomiting, pissing, and shitting. On plates. Which they show off to each other as if they had just crapped out The Pieta. Many viewers will check out during this sequence, which takes up almost the last third of the film, save for a final scene in which a naked Ms. Canada is immersed in chocolate for an advertising campaign ("I want people to think they´re eating you.") Apparently, even the game Ms. Laure checked out this point; unable to handle the gross-out factor of the extended commune sequence, she walked off the set.
The film´s title is certainly intended ironically, but it´s also got a ring of authenticity. Through all the sex, viscera, and excretions, the characters exude an aura of innocence and joy, as if declaring that no matter what political system attempts to oppress them, they´ve still got their bodies, and they´re still alive. One of the film´s central songs asks "Is there life after birth?" The answer is yes, and it is best lived vigorously and without limitations, either self-imposed or otherwise. Here, it is perhaps better to be pissed on than pissed off, at least if that´s what you´re into.
In this ejaculatory mess, it´s easy to miss Makavejev´s strategic placement of brief documentary snippets of the Katyn Forest massacre. In 1940, Soviet authorities (on Stalin´s orders) authorized the mass execution of thousands of Polish citizens; in 1943 Germans uncovered evidence of mass graves. Makavejev inserts footage of the mass exhumation at certain points, which to me seems like a direct challenge to audiences and censors who were outraged by the film´s sexual and scatological content. How twisted and clueless do you have to be to be offended by a little piss and shit (OK, more than a little) in a world in which such tragedies happen? If only the Soviet butchers could have gotten into a little harmless S&M, a whole lot more people would still be alive today.
"Sweet Movie" is not nearly the success that "WR" was. As a challenge to societal conventions, it has its place, but unlike "WR," the film feels post-modern by the Moe Szyslak definition of the term: "Weird for the sake of being weird." The commune scenes certainly succeed in terms of pure shock value, but the film´s taboo-busting energy is dissipated by the over-the-top eccentricity of many of the characters, esp. Mr. Dollars and his hag-from-hell mother. Carole Laure is a real trooper, though, the bravest actress this side of Divine (yes, I´m obsessed), and the photography by the great Pierre Lhomme (Lhomme is truly "the man") is worth the price of admission all by itself.
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