Peter Strickland may be one of the most esoteric directors working today. His films are sojourns into strange and wondrous corners of the human psyche that often have terrifying or heartbreaking ramifications. His latest offering abandons the horrific underpinnings of his previous works in favor of a deadpan satire of the pretentiousness of the world of highbrow art and those who are forever trapped within. Featuring an absolutely brilliant ensemble, a hysterical script, and a plethora of enticing and repulsing visuals, Strickland once again delivers an unforgettable opus of the absurd.
A group of Sonic
Caterers are sponsored by a mysterious patron and take residency in an artistic
commune where they perform auditory culinary nightmares for nameless
onlookers. An unsuspecting journalist with gastrointestinal problems has
been assigned to document the trio's journey, however, his flatulence threatens
to upend a dangerous balance of food, sex, and artistic freedom.
Strickland wastes no time and goes right for the heart, simultaneously making
fun of his filmmaking approach and also lambasting the ridiculousness of the
current state of the medium. One of the most intriguing aspects is in how
everything borders on horror, and yet never fully commits. The result is
a pressure cooker of artistic toxicity, erotica, and an almost primal approach
to cooking. This is a visceral film, in which flesh, blood, and farts are
thrown into a whirlwind of presentation and put on display, creating a buffet
of poisoned delights.
Tim Sidell's cinematography is one of a kind, bathing the optics in deep blues and reds. This bifurcates the world of the stage from the real world, while also allowing them to bleed into one another, creating a feverish reality that permeates through each set piece. There are pointless shadow wars and ruthless gangs of offended epicureans that prowl in the shadows of Sidell’s design, further enriching Strickland’s dogma. Tim Harrison's sound design is the centerpiece, mixing the "performances" of the caterers with desperate, methane filled monologues by Stones, the gassy documentarian who acts as a surrogate for the audience. Strickland relies on his previous collaborators, with Gwendolyn Christie (Game of Thrones) and Fatima Mohamed returning, while new comers Asa Butterfield, Ariane Labed, and Makis Papadimitriou round out the cast.
Mohamed steals the
limelight, per usual, with her performance as the feisty and unyielding
Elle. Lebed is (un)intentionally hilarious as a Kristen Stewart clone,
while Butterfield mopes around as a The Cure groupie. Their
trifecta is hypnotic to watch, especially during "shopping" sequences
in which Christie's culinary diva commands the narrative.
Papdimitriou's Stones, the intestinally challenged documentary is the
everyman who is slowly drawn into the madness of the collective. His
monologues, particularly during scenes of post-performance orgies and other
debauchery are absolutely hysterical, juxtaposing the sensuous, captivating
draw of the artistic with a man simply trying to conceal his gastrointestinal
distress while watching group sex from the side lines.
Strickland is an artist who knows not only who he is, but also what viewers want. It is clear, with every single frame, that he understands the frivolity of the director's plight and that there is a real, and insurmountable divide between the artist and the audience, because once a creation leaves its creator, it no longer belongs to them. However, Strickland is more preoccupied with the process of creation and the illusion of ownership and this is filtered through the madcap give and take ecosystem of patron and creator. The end result is a one-of-a-kind excursion into the filthy realities of the art world.
Now available for digital rental, Flux Gourmet is a challenging, side-splitting expose on the pinnacle of pretension. Brimming with fetishes, Strickland and his dedicated cast and crew have created a love letter to their craft while also recognizing and surrendering to the absurdities that are hallmarks of the trade. Revolting, enticing, comical, and terrifying, Flux Gourmet is a potent cocktail of sensory eroticism that ultimately reveals itself to be a perfumed Molotov, waiting to be hurled by the next generation of creators at anything standing in their way.
--Kyle Jonathan