Tag Archives: Animation

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: HOPITAL BRUT (1999)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Le Dernier Cri (Pakito Bolino, Marc Druez, Christophe Istier)

FEATURING: None

PLOT: A revue showcasing the grotesque occupants of the world’s most inhospitable hospital.

Still from Hospital Brut (1999)

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Hopital Brut is an indefatigable assault on the senses, combining a deliberately crude and hyperactive visual style, a clamorous soundtrack that never softens or slows, and a giddy disregard for propriety. The curators aim to offend, and they never let up in their compulsion to shock.

COMMENTS: The digital hive mind at Google Translate interprets “hôpital brut” directly as “raw hospital.” However, “brut” alone lso translates as “gross,” and “Gross Hospital” is a far more appropriate and accurate title for these 45 minutes of cartoon cacophony assembled by the French collective Le Dernier Cri (translation: “The Latest”).

One of the things that makes animation anthologies like Spike and Mike’s Festival of Animation compelling is the broad range of styles and intentions sitting alongside each other. Hopital Brut is based on comic panels created by more than two dozen stars of the alt-comic scene, and their unique artistic approaches seem well-suited to the format, which promises something distinctly strange behind each door. However, the end product suffers from an interminable sameness, with one chaotic onslaught sliding into the next one. The techniques change somewhat, with stop-motion, paper cutouts, and even the occasional burst of sped-up live action footage spotlighted, but they all share a rapid pace, herky-jerky rhythm, and a love of the coarse. With so many sources of artistic inspiration at play here, and considering the assembled film’s intention to be a patchwork quilt of strangeness, maybe it’s not asking too much to expect a little variety. Instead, the same ideas keep popping up to the tune of the relentless hammering of an industrial soundtrack.

Despite its repetitiveness, a few segments have enough novelty to stand out, such as the tale of the lonely artist who turns to a lord of the underworld in order to get girls, but discovers that the over-endowed demon has more to offer. Another patient freaks out when he sees himself drowning in his soup. A set of genitals features anthropomorphized testicles that look like busts of German composers. A giant praying mantis shows up for a quick orgy of rape and evisceration, which makes for a change of pace from all the poking, prodding, and maiming that the doctors usually employ. But even these moments are only marginally more impactful than their brethren, as the same notions are served over and over again. The chef may change, but the dish remains the same.

There’s little doubt that Hopital Brut is weird. It wears its irreverence and its iconoclasm on its sleeve. But after that, there’s very little to recommend it. The film is a Venn diagram where the categories of “weirdness” and “watchability” are moving steadily apart until they are completely separate circles. It ends as it began, no less defiant and no more engaging than it was from the outset. Still, the collective seems to have landed squarely in the center of its intended target, and there’s an amusing piece of evidence to back that up. If you visit the film’s page at MUBI, you’ll be greeted with a piece of text which is both absurdly tangential and highly apropos: “Hopital Brut is not available to watch. Instead, check out Lars von Trier’s Antichrist.” An even trade? It’s probably a perfect double feature, an algorithmic pairing that would make Le Dernier Cri’s collective hearts flutter.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Don’t want to fry on acid? Afraid your gonna do a Diane Linklater dive off a skyscraper thinking that you can fly and the only “scraper” you’ll get is when they peel you off the pavement?! Look no further than the semi short ‘Hopital Brut’!!!… keep kids far away from this, unless you want your kids traumatized for their rest of their short, miserable lives.” —noisepuncher_caiaav, Noisepuncher

(This movie was nominated for review by Parker Weston. Suggest a weird movie of your own here.)         

SLAMDANCE FILM FESTIVAL: CARTOON CORNER (2026)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Why, yes I watched thirteen films today…

Wan Wan (dir. Mayuko Kobayashi; 8 min.)—A kaleidoscopic grapeshot blast of vibrantly vague memories. I suspect this font of imagery—trees, water, pigeons, noodle pan, fireworks—flows directly from Mayuko Kobayashi’s memories, but there is a universality. Beginning with home-video of a matriarch, we dive into a series of child-drawings in constant motion. There’s also a cute dog.

Transitional Object (dir. Shayna Strype; 7 min.)—D’aww, that was adorable. Shayna Strype uses stop-motion, traditional, and a combination of the two animations to honor a girl’s stuffed toy as it watches over her through the years, before passing her along to the afterlife. Lo-fi synth keyboarding provides a chirpy, nostalgic soundtrack.

Play Fight! (dir. Katrina Larner; 8 min.)—There are countless gaps in my personal experience, and one reason I’m drawn to animated shorts is in order to fill those gaps. Herein, Katrina Larner explores the vagaries of ‘tween girl sleepovers, and the mental impact of homosexual preferences at that age. A 5th-wheel girl is dropped off for a night of party-playing, and so we observe a cavalcade of cacophonous color and craziness. A giant mother mother shoots a knife and fork from her eyes and pursues what she views as wayward behavior. But!, things wrap up well enough for our pentad of party people, ’cause it’s only a play fight.

blinks in mimi’s singing voice (dir. Natalie Xie; 6 min.)—Is this but an elaborate series of notebook doodles brought to life? Perhaps, but maybe not. I can’t say I understood just what this was or where it was going, but Natalie Xie kept my eyes occupied throughout as the image shifted from clusters of kitty faces to jumping jacks to desks, chairs, and birds. On its one-and-a-half second course across the screen, a green dot kept my rapt attention.

A Flame the Color of Air (dir. Emily Pelstring; 7 min.)—Words, lines, color, and voice all flow and spin across a black backdrop, shifting and never taking full form for long. Pelstring’s study of womanhood focuses on the ineffable, drawing from a medieval Continue reading SLAMDANCE FILM FESTIVAL: CARTOON CORNER (2026) →

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: UNICORN BOY (2023)

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

DIRECTED BY: Matty Kiel

FEATURING: The voices of Matty Kiel, Maria Bamford, Sethword, Harold Perrineau, Cindy Paola, ,

PLOT: After a poorly thought out break-up and a concussion sustained in in a café bathroom, Matt travels to a unicorn dimension.

Still from Unicorn Boy (2023)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: Anyone who wondered what a mash-up of Hieronymus Bosch and Lisa Frank might look like need wonder no longer.

COMMENTS: Shamans of yore sought vision by pushing their bodies to extremes: employing drugs and self-privation in pursuit of higher awareness. Matt’s methods are softer, and manifest softer visions—ones of pastel bug- and fish-monsters fusing together in sexual pulsation, or uptight unicorn citizens grumbling about the profusion of rainbow vomit staining the roads of their “perfect” city. Mostly, though, Matt has visions of rainbow vomit, beginning with a sudden visitation from Prince Purpleton (perhaps the doofiest unicorn imaginable), who stomps onto Matt’s couch, spatters his pastel weirdness about, and disappears as abruptly as he appeared.

Unicorn Boy mixes equal parts anxiety and vibrant vomit, which is to say, there is a seemingly endless stream of each. Matt is working through some Things, and it is while trying to discuss these Things with his grandly moustachioed buddy Sethward that he himself becomes sick in a trendy café, escapes to the restroom, and probably endures brain damage. The remainder of the film follows his adventures in the unicorn world and his subsequent pursuits of further addlement through yoga to resolve the unicorn plot line.

I’ve long maintained that animation is at its best when it creates a reality above, beyond, or outside our own, and Matty Kiel doesn’t disappoint. Purpleton and the fellow denizens of a magical realm squish around their oddball business, fusing (or is it shunting?) with others, with the ever-present risk of blacklight-ready rainbow spew keeping us on our toes. The protagonist’s troubles are relatable, providing a recognizable emotional mush for which the technicolor flights of goo are a reasonable visual extension. His fantastical visions suffer as he does, suppressing their depressing desires lest a burst of violently colorful, demanding bugs spring forth from within. Even the unicorn realm demands  wholesomeness and positivity.

Unicorn Boy is a cringe-y melodrama, a slice of life, and therapy through narrative. Judging from the character names and video clips in the credits, Matt in 2016 evolves into Matty in 2023, having endured some small-bore (though impactful) troubles of the heart. From his mind’s black box he creates a cute-‘n-gross voyage of personal growth. And while its ultimate message of love and acceptance is nothing new, its means are rather unique. Matty Kiel, and their Matt-in-movie manifestation, line their path to wisdom with splotches of sparkly spew. Not classically shamanistic, perhaps, but it gets the job done.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Age 14+ Personal growth, rainbow-barfing unicorns in animated indie… For viewers who don’t like gross-out humor or surrealism, the imagery might be unpleasant—but that’s also the point, since even the characters call out how gross the land’s magic is.”— Monique Jones, Common Sense Media (contemporaneous)

Unicorn Boy [DVD]

  • DVD

New starting from: 15.99 $

Go to Amazon

CAPSULE: THE BLOODY LADY (1980)

Krvavá pani

366 Weird Movies may earn commissions from purchases made through product links.

Recommended

DIRECTED BY: Viktor Kubal

FEATURING: Voice of Jela Lukesová

PLOT: A young maiden transforms into a sadistic lady after a short affair leaves her heartbroken, and the myth of Erzsébet Báthory, the Blood Countess, is born.

Still from The Bloody Lady (1980)

COMMENTS: It starts innocently, with vivid and warm color palettes, visual gags, and a young princess dancing and playing with the forest animals, like something out of a Disney movie. But do not be fooled; this lady is Elizabeth Bathory, and things will suddenly take a turn for the grim, the weird, and the macabre.

When the young girl falls sick while in the forest, a peasant takes her under his protection and care. Something akin to love blossoms. But this love is doomed to remain unrequited, as the princess will have to return to the palace eventually, leaving behind as a memento… her heart.

This slightly grotesque gesture is not  only a symbol of her love and devotion towards the peasant, it underlines the grief their separation brings. With the gift she becomes figuratively and literally heartless. She stops caring about others—people or animals—and her hardened feelings transform her gradually into a cruel beast, finding comfort and joy only in tormenting others.

The drawings, till this point vibrantly recalling 60s and 70s psychedelia, grow darker with and an ominous night color palette emerges.  Like the mythical Snow Queen, our heroine develops cruel instincts as a way to cope with her frustrations. She turns into what we would call “evil”, although she is never just a caricature, retaining her humanity even in the movie’s most WTF moments.

She turns a servant into a pawn for her evil doings. His job will be to seduce young virgins and lure them inside the castle, where the countess awaits ready to turn them into a bloodbath for her own pleasure and self-care. More murders and mayhem follow, climaxing in a suggestive scene combining nudity, seduction, and sharp nipples.

Although dialogue is mostly absent, the soundscape is a major part of the world-building. Orchestral music, often melancholic and with a slow tempo,  introduces us to the darkest moments of our tale. Psalms, resembling satanic calls, accompany the grotesqueries. And everything culminates in a deeply lyrical ending.

This is not a sensationalist portrait of the legend of Bathory, but one that strives to find her humanity. Humans are revealed as deeply flawed creatures, but with a prospect of salvation sometimes—but not always. The story can be considered as a parable, an allegorical commentary on the perpetual fight of good vs evil inside our psyche. The Countess’ young servant, a dirty-looking dark-haired man, is a symbol of impure evil. The blond, angelic peasant Elizabeth fell in love with at the first place is a vessel of light, a messenger of bliss and pure good—even when he fails to make a difference.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“[Kubal’s] trademark style involving very simple lines, shapes, and colors was first put to use in commercials and child-friendly short subjects, but here he lends it to something much stranger and darker that feels like a Saturday morning cartoon splashed with nudity and blood.”–Nathaniel Thompson, Mondo Digital (Blu-ray)

The Bloody Lady [Blu-ray]

  • A collection of feature and short films by the influential Slovak animator, Viktor Kubal.

List Price : 19.99 $

Offer: 19.98 $

Go to Amazon