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Images courtesy of MVD Visual |
French film composer Marc Collin first began writing music
for film in 1989 and though remaining under the radar for the duration of his
career, Collin nevertheless managed to keep busy scoring films like Riviera,
Kiss Me and most recently A Day, 365 Hours. Around 2019 however, the musician for hire sought
to deliver his own paean to the late 1970s Paris music scene which began to
expand into electronic music with his first feature as a
writer-producer-director The Shock of the Future. A chamber piece set primarily in one flat
being housesat belonging to a musician owning a cacophony of synths and
sequencers, the film stars none other than Alma Jodorwosky the granddaughter of
the legendary surrealist filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky in a film that’s
celebratory of a style of music that was niche yet cutting edge at the time.
Ana (Alma Jodorowsky) frolics about a flat she is watching
over adorned with electronic music equipment while also being tasked with
generating music for a commercial project she’s not particularly interested
in. But when a friend passes through
with a Roland CR-78 beatbox, she works out a deal for him to temporarily leave
it with her so she can complete her commercial project and perhaps create her
own personal project in the same breath.
As other friends pass through including a disc jockey showing off slick
new electronic acts including but not limited to Suicide’s Frankie Teardrop,
a singer named Clara (Clara Luciani) drops by to record some vocals for the
aforementioned commercial project when Ana and she hit it off instead over a
new track they rendered together.
A movie whose small interiors take on a vastness when the
camera closes in on the overwhelmingly detailed machinery of sequencers and
synthesizers with the whole world lived by Ana largely existing inside this
creative chamber, The Shock of the Future though miniscule and something
of a musical revue with frequent needle drops proves to be a warm-hearted love
letter to electronic music. In particular,
the film is concerned with distinctly female musical pioneers who changed the
sonic landscape of listeners for decades to come. Beset by a sexist alcoholic friend of the
flat owner, hotshot music producers who turn their nose up at Ana and Clara’s
creation and a generally male dominated marketplace more interested in Ana’s
physical beauty than her creative genius, the film is a testament to all women
who fought against the grain to have their sonic innovation broadcast out into
the world.
Co-written by D’Elina Gakou Comba, lensed in 2.35:1 scope
widescreen by Stefano Forlini whose camera careens lovingly over every corner,
knob and wire connecting the synthesizers together, the film also features some
original music by director Collin himself as well as numerous needle drops from
Musiques Cerrone, Jean Michel Carre, Throbbing Gristle, Suicide, Supermax, The
Droids, and many more. Alma Jodorowsky
is quite good in the role as a young innovator thinking miles ahead of everyone
else in the room creatively and unable to help but divert from her preordained
recording tasks to generate her own musical creations. The supporting cast of characters who pass
through the flat she’s watching are generally good though particular attention
goes to Clara Luciani who helps her generate an original track. Still, perhaps the biggest star in the room
is the musical gadgetry itself which the camera treats almost like a living
thing.
Released on DVD by MVD Visual through Cleopatra Entertainment,
the disc includes an interview with Marc Collin and an image slideshow but
otherwise there’s not much there. A bit
of a shame this is such a clandestine under-the-radar release as what is here
should be an integral part of anyone interested in electronic music or has
lived the struggle Ana has with putting her work out in a marketplace overrun
by men. As a collective revue of
electronic music there’s a lot here that, when rendered in 5.1 surround sound
on a home theater, is like having a rainbow of ear candy poured into the ear space. As a microbudget French musical chamber
piece, while small it proves to be a mighty little movie that will likely make
you pull your favorite electronic albums off the shelf for a much-needed
revisitation.
--Andrew Kotwicki