If
you mention the top of avant-garde animation artists, whether it be hand drawn
or stop-motion rendered, the Quay Brothers will invariably come up in
discussion. Identical twin American
stop-motion animating legends, the work of Stephen and Timothy Quay remains
timeless and seem to come from deep within their kindred subconscious. Often gothic and possessing the soft-focus
patina of a waking nightmare, their mostly known for their short films, some of
which were curated some years back with Christopher Nolan’s The Brothers Quay in 35mm tour.
What
they’re not generally known for, however, are feature film projects. To date, the enigmatic surrealist filmmakers
have only produced two feature length pictures in between shorts which are
every bit as impenetrable, dreamy and unsettling as their iconic short film
works. Whether or not they work as
narrative cinematic fiction is open to debate but as anyone who approaches
surrealism will tell you, the story is sometimes secondary to the sensory
experience unfolding.
In
their second feature in ten years (executive produced by Terry Gilliam no
less), the enigmatic and dreamy The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes exists in
its own bizarre dimension which takes the filmmakers’ respective obsessions
with automatons to new visual heights.
Something of a German Expressionist influenced melodrama told through
the Boschian painterly style of the Quays, the film zeroes in on Felisberto
(Cesar Sarachu), a lanky piano tuner tasked with servicing the mercurial Dr.
Droz (Gottfried John) in his secluded villa.
Upon working in this strange environment, a plot unfolds involving a
strange diabolical opera prominently featuring beautiful singer Malvina (Amira
Casar) including but not limited to madness and murder.
From
its indecipherable title to the near impenetrable object that is the film
itself, the uncompromising vision of the Quays isn’t going to be for all
tastes. Moving at a mannered,
deliberately sleepy pace and lensed digitally (a first for the Quays) in
soft-focus with intentionally dim lighting by Nic Knowland, The Piano Tuner
of Earthquakes like Lynch’s Eraserhead isn’t so much a
straightforward piece of storytelling as it is a phantasmagorical environment
you soak in while watching. Though
executed in the time-honored precision of the Quays, the world of this film is
the kind that is very easy to lose yourself in.
What
immediately catches the viewer’s eye is the set design which looks somewhat
like an overgrown deranged children’s playhouse. Think of it as one of the miniature sets for
their animated shorts brought to live action thanks to a brilliant production
design. Watching the film you wonder
what it must have been like for the actors to set foot on these frankly uncanny
set pieces though everyone involved in the cast give that same mannered, soft
speech frequently heard in Lars Von Trier films.
Equally
strange is the film’s soundtrack and eerie sound design which is equal parts
spooky industrial and haunting avant-garde orchestral music by Christopher
Slaski, making the picture as eerie to see as it is to hear. One gets the sense you’re in an otherworldly
cathedral upon diving into the Quays’ soundscape which has that same unsettling
industrial ambience Lynch fans are accustomed to. Either way, from the flickering soft vistas
to the creepy sound design, the world fashioned here by the Quays is an
unpleasant yet occasional enchanting place to be in.
A
British/German/French co-production, The Piano Tuner of Earthquakes would
not exist were it not for the reputation of the Quays who are obviously pushing
the outer limits of the cinematic medium’s capabilities. This isn’t going to appeal to everyone and
would not come recommended for those unfamiliar with the Quays. Having seen the film a few times now, it has
the mystique of Lynch or Bunuel with the visceral horror of H.R. Giger but like
Lynch’s interminable and impenetrable Inland Empire it remains difficult
to precisely put one’s finger on it. Not
for all tastes but for the adventurous cinephile and Quays die-hards, not to be
missed!
--Andrew Kotwicki
