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DIRECTED BY: Richard Melkonian
FEATURING: Giacomo Gex, Jacob Meadows
PLOT: Mott is directed to find a saint and a sacrificial lamb before the world ends this coming Sunday; Jacob, a postman who discovers Mott’s chronicle in the dead-letter office, is uncertain of what to make of the revelation.
WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Melkonian draws deeply from the creative veins tapped by Wenders, Greenaway, and Tarkovsky—and so has devised an appropriately odd-and-arty outing.
COMMENTS: Richard Melkonian tells his story his way. If this means using an epistolary structure, with post office banter interrupting the flow, so be it. If this means slapping in a Bergmanesque dream sequence, so be it. And if this means a West End-style musical duet between an angel and a tragic actress, so be it. While his inspirations are apparent throughout Universe 25, the film is his own, and features a singular sound and visual design. Presuming Melkonian—who serves as writer, director, and composer here—further develops his style, he has the advantage that his last name already reads as an adjective.
Beginning with some gritty back alleys in a gritty style, Universe 25 appears to concern a young postman by the name of Jacob. After a hard morning’s deliveries, his supervisor tasks him with sifting through some undeliverables. Find out if a letter or parcel might, perhaps, have its destination determined despite the “lost post” designation, and if not, affix the “Bump It” sticker after two weeks, and… bump it. Jacob is in no mood for this drudgery, and he slides the dead letters onto the floor. One oddly-addressed item catches his eye, however, and he finds himself reading the handwritten observations of a future super intelligence (a “Level Three” one), who has recently appeared in our time—emerging in a neon green glow upon a canal bridge—to await instructions from his creator. These turned out to be: find the saint; find the lamb; and compose a scroll to account for his efforts.
Mott, the super intelligence, manifests as a quietly genial human. He hears people’s prayers, and offers guidance to those who accept his divine origins. His powers work on a traumatized mother unable to acknowledge her son has gone (grown up or passed away in infancy, it is unclear). They do not work in the case of the man he identifies as the saint. This angel—or future intelligence—follows the saint, from his choreography studio, to the saint’s home in Romania, before returning home after a cryptic sequence involving Mott’s master, a lamb, and a dilapidated church.
This is all the stuff of high-religious meditation, depicted in unsightly earth form. Universe 25‘s sound alternately disorients and grounds the listener, while the nigh-ubiquitous shadows tend to black out the eyes of the performers. But we’re never locked into a trying, portentous ordeal: at the drop of a hat, we zip back to Jacob as he’s interrupted by co-workers. In the end, Mott’s fate is as unexplained as his actual origins: is he an angel? an intelligence? a wing-nut? Would all this be explained if Jacob just answered the desk phone? And while we’re asking questions, just who are this pair of Euro-hipsters who keep popping up?
Like Heaven, the future, and the lives of others: we will never know.
