All posts by Gregory J. Smalley (366weirdmovies)

Gregory J. Smalley founded 366 Weird Movies in 2008 and has served as editor-in-chief since that time. He is a member of the Online Film Critics Society, and his film writing has appeared online in Pop Matters and The Spool.

CAPSULE: WAITING FOR DALI (2023)

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Waiting for Dali is currently available for rental or purchase on-demand.

DIRECTED BY: David Pujol

FEATURING: , José Garcia, Clara Ponsot

PLOT: A restaurateur in ‘s hometown of Cadaqués in the 70s dreams of luring the artist to visit his Dalí-themed “El Surreal” bistro, and catches a break when a master chef on the lam shows up in need of work (and a cover story).

Waiting for Dali (2023)

COMMENTS: Movie about Dalí (at least the ones we’ve covered) all seem to be rooted in realism: Little Ashes focused on Federico García Lorca’s crush on the young Dalí, while ‘s Daliland largely contended itself with depicting the extravagance of the painter’s lavish celebrity lifestyle. Perhaps Dalí himself would appreciate the irony; no director dares attempt to even approximate his hallucinatory genius. (We suspect surrealist will end this trend soon when he releases his “real fake biopic” starring multiple actors as Dalí later this year.) When Jules decorates his El Surreal bistro with plastic clocks melting in the trees, a lobster glued to the telephone, and mannequins seated at the tables, it seems like a cheesy Vegas-style tribute to the surrealist icon rather than anything legitimately surreal.

The surrealist cuisine crafted by master chef Fernando, however, does show originality: an airy mountain of carrot mouse modeled off a local landmark, “hot-and-cold pea soup,” various oddly shaped mini-loafs painstakingly decorated with tiny springs of herbs, and an array savory lollipops served on a bed of mud. The artistic journey in the film belongs to Fernando, who learns to incorporate controlled chaos into his craft, which had previously been ruled by strict order and proper French culinary procedures. Fernando’s gastronomical reinventions suggest the way Dalí mastered the basic techniques of painting before warping them to his own imaginary landscapes. Restaurateur Jules (who looks uncannily like a young Spanish Robert Downey Jr.), on the other hand, essentially serves as dapper comic relief: he is a Dalí fanboy who invents with multiple unsuccessful schemes to lure the object of his obsession to his dining establishment. In the end, it is only Fernando’s audacious menu that offers any chance of attracting the master.

Dalí himself is only an aspirational figure in the tale; if you are waiting for him to appear, you may be disappointed. You will also not learn a lot about the artist; the film, made for a Spanish audience, assumes you have a baseline of knowledge about the time, place, and players. A single introductory sentence explains that the story takes place at the end of the Franco dictatorship, and from there you’re on your own. The film expects you to know who Gala is when she appears, and to recognize the various Dalían tributes Jules has set up in El Surreal. Franco’s police play a role in motivating the plot, but they are hardly a serious threat; they are almost comic foils, and not even important enough to bother tying up the loose threads they leave at the end. The film is instead surprisingly light and frothy, like carrot mousse, and sunny like the Catalonian shore, a celebration of creativity that shines even in the darkest days.

Director David Pujol’s had directed two previous documentaries about Dalí, and also a television miniseries documentary about avant-garde chef Ferran Adrià, so he obviously knows his subjects well.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…the cast’s willingness to do all the heavy lifting elevates the otherwise puzzling yet predictable film that wants to use a turbulent era for the setting of a feel-good, romantic film but ends up feeling random, inconsistent, and scattered.”–Sarah J. Vincent, Boston Movie News (contemporaneous)

 

CAPSULE: CHRONICLES OF A WANDERING SAINT (2023)

 Crónicas de una Santa Errante

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Recommended

DIRECTED BY: Tomás Gómez Bustillo

FEATURING: Mónica Villa, Horacio Marassi

PLOT: A pious Argentinian woman finds a statue of St. Rita, which had mysteriously disappeared years ago, in her local church storeroom, and hopes that it’s a miracle.

Still from Chronicles of a Wandering Saint (2023)

COMMENTS: Chronicles of a Wandering Saint is one of those movies that’s hard to discuss because of a major plot shift that occurs at the end of the first act. Up until that point, we have been following a low-key story about a woman desperate to feel special who believes she may have encountered a miracle. Rita, who shares a name with the saint whose mysteriously disappearing statue she believes she has found, gets all of her identity and gratification from her involvement with the local church: participating in prayer groups, volunteering to clean the chapel, and rare discussions/confessions with the itinerant priest who rotates among the local villages. She thoughtlessly ignores her devoted husband Norberto, who tries in vain to rekindle their romance with a low-budget recreation of their honeymoon in their humble dining room, and who also has a gift for appreciating ordinary miracles that Rita lacks (“Is the wind really just the wind?”) As Rita’s obsession with the statue increases, her ethics lapse—not mortal sins, but sins that reveal her motivation to be seen as good rather than to actual be good.

Up until the twist, Chronicles is a slow-moving study establishing Rita’s character. You will know when things shift because of an amusing and audacious formal choice by the director. Afterwards, the pace of the film picks up, as Bustillo introduces much broader (and genuinely funny) elements of religious satire and magical realism, while simultaneously launching a redemption arc for Rita. The ending, while sentimental, is well-earned, and elegantly expresses Bustillo’s conclusion about performative religiosity versus genuine spiritual engagement with this world.

A first-time writer/director, Bustillo arrives on the scene with confidence and competence. Modestly budgeted, he keeps Chronicles‘ action within its limitations. There are few special effects—basically just occasional digitized glowing—but what gets onscreen is perfectly serviceable. One scene is cleverly staged during a midnight lightning storm, like a dreamy slideshow; but in keeping with the movie’s message, nothing here (with the possible exception of the end credits) is really flashy or demonstrative. That applies to the acting, which merits adjectives like “subtle” and “tasteful.” This restraint is especially suited to Villa’s portrayal of Rita. The character has the potential to become unlikable, but Villa’s slight hesitations, doubts, and internal struggles make her relatable and put us in her corner. Given the choice, Rita selects the premium religious experience—the slow path, with miracles—rather than the express option. It turns out to be the right choice, if not for the reasons she initially believed.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…refreshingly unpredictable, surreal and outrageously funny.”–Avi Offer, NYC Movie Guru (contemporaneously)

CAPSULE: DOGMAN (2023)

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DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: , Jojo T. Gibbs, Lincoln Powell

PLOT: A boy, imprisoned for years in a dog cage by his sadistic father, grows up understandably misanthropic, preferring the company of canines.

Still from Dogman (2023)

COMMENTS: Luc Besson began his career in greatness with a string of three cult hits—La Femme Nikkita (1990), The Professional (1994), and The Fifth Element (1997)—before settling into mediocrity in his later years with the overblown sci-fi spectacles Lucy (2014) and Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets (2017). After taking five years off from serious filmmaking to fight a rape charge—of which he was cleared in 2023—Besson fans might hope for a return to form with DogMan. This is not that, but it is a remarkably eccentric effort.

DogMan has one big asset that carries it over its rough patches: star Caleb Landry Jones, who throws himself into the role of dog Doug. Under interrogation, the unflappable Jones is unfailingly polite, calm, confident, weary, and only slightly menacing. The script requires him to repress his sadness when wooing a Broadway star, wield a sawed-off shotgun while wearing and evening dress and leg braces, and lip-sync Edith Piaf, all of which he does without a trace of irony. His relationship with his dozens of canine co-stars is remarkably matter-of-fact: he doesn’t dote on them like a pet owner, but treats them as comrades—while remaining the alpha and refusing to let them steal his scenes. Plus, he looks great in drag.

While Jones is steady, the script is another matter. A man who has a telepathic connection to super-intelligent dogs, I can buy. That’s magical realism. But when the police detain this man after an illegal warrantless vehicle search reveals nothing incriminating, just so a non-court-appointed psychiatrist can elicit a bunch of flashbacks? That’s lazy writing. The script is full of unanswered questions and depends on every character doing not what makes sense for their own interests, but whatever will advance the predetermined plot. In some ways, the story feels like it could have come out of a 19th century novel: man raised by dogs, seeking revenge, cursed with a romantic affliction (he can walk, but if he walks too much he might die). But it’s also all over the place: by turns, it’s a serious child abuse drama, a dimly-lit action thriller, a romance, a bizzaro heist movie, and even a sort of antihero-superhero flick, like 101 Dalmatians meets Joker. The lack of narrative rigor reinforces the idea that DogMan is really a gussied-up b-movie with art-house pretensions: a dramatic medium for delivering scenes like a mastiff munching on a gangster’s crotch. But, sloppy script and wavering tone aside, DogMan has just enough crazy energy and gonzo passion to save itself from being a disaster. Any movie with Jones as a wheelchair-bound, Shakespeare-quoting, asexual drag queen who communicates telepathically with dogs is likely to have at least a little oddball appeal.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…the strangest, possibly silliest movie of the veteran director’s idiosyncratic career. It is also borderline brilliant.”–Jeannette Catsoulis, The New York Times (contemporaneous)