Tag Archives: Meta-narrative

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CAPSULE: DIGGER (2026)

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DIRECTED BY:

FEATURING: , , Riz Ahmed, , Sophie Wilde,

PLOT: A narcissistic billionaire struggles to control the narrative after his oil drilling operation causes a global catastrophe.

Still from Digger (2026)

COMMENTS: Digger is, nakedly, Tom Cruise’s bid to finally land that elusive Oscar. Give him a producer’s credit and an 8-figure budget. A script for an issue film, but not on a super-polarizing topic like transsexualism: instead, make it a comedy with a populist spin about the ultra-wealthy screwing the little guy. Pair him with a director with a reputation for shepherding highbrow concepts into accessible, Oscar-friendly cineplex experiences. Add a top-notch supporting cast willing to concede the limelight. Throw money at the screen, promising a Vista Vision spectacle like only real Hollywood can do it. Given these resources, Cruise certainly does his part: under what looks like pounds of makeup and a fat suit that makes him unrecognizable except for the occasional Cruisian glimmer in his eye, he blusters his way through the madness, hitting every mark.

And yet, for all of this liveliness, box office receipts and reviews have already dug Digger an early grave. Which may be appropriate for a ghoulish comedy featuring a dying planet, a dying President, and a dying cat.

One drawback is that the film isn’t that funny. Iñárritu has a knack for contrived absurdity, but not for the sort of rollicking comedy that feels unforced and organic. Consider a moment in a high-stakes war room meeting when a general makes an off-color sexist remark, and President Compson (a gaunt Goodman) admonishes him to watch his language because there are ladies present. After a beat where everyone looks around the room in confusion, Goodman chortles, unable to sustain a straight face. That line would have been a screamer in Dr. Strangelove‘s 1960s, but, although it gets a reflexive laugh here, you almost immediately realize it doesn’t reflect contemporary reality: today, there would have been a Susie Wiles in that meeting, or at the very least a Natalie Harp. 

Which leads into the other major criticism of the film: it crams obvious messages into the shape of jokes, rather than finding the humor in the story’s situations. Digger is preachy, almost as hectoring as its caricature of a tycoon. And few enjoy being lectured at, even when they agree with the lesson. The script’s “meta” twist acknowledges this weakness, and comes close to apologizing for it; but in doing so, risks becoming even more condescending, explaining to the audience how satire is supposed to work and how you should process it. The tack the twist takes, however, ultimately serves a narrative purpose that is specific and surprising enough to avoid that pitfall. Still, the overall feeling that the film is talking down to the viewer is hard to shake.

Based on the sometimes brutal notices, that smug tone annoyed many critics. But in truth, it hardly ruins the film, which remains brisk and unpredictable. Digger is still strong when it focuses on uncomfortable truths. The centerpiece is a 10-minute (one take!) Cruise monologue where he speaks before some sort of court composed of a jury of ashen European extras from a film. Having given up on deniability in the face of a tsunami of death and misery directly caused by his choices, Digger surrenders to the inevitable opprobrium and tries the tactic of truth as a Hail Mary. Yes, we wrecked the environment. But what did you expect us to do? Ignore your demands for heat in the winter and air conditioning in the summer, jet fuel for trips to Mallorca, and Doordashed Big Macs? Forego squeezing every short-term dollar of shareholder value? Not kick the can of catastrophe down the road? Did anyone ever actually believe there was any way we would not ruin the planet? The message is heavy-handed… but it’s not wrong.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…even when you bump against the Tom Cruise of it all, and there’s no denying the thrill of watching him apply his signature intensity to a role as strange as this one… Iñárritu… fares better when he trades slapstick for Hieronymous Bosch-like surrealism during the middle portion…”–David Ehrlich, Indiewire (contemporaneous)

I think this movie is weirder than average
I think this movie is better than average

Capsules

CAPSULE: BOUCHRA (2024)

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Bouchra is available for purchase or rental on-demand.

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DIRECTED BY: Orian Yani Barki, Merriem Benani

FEATURING: Voices of Yto Barrada, Marriam Benani, Dounia Berrada

PLOT: A New York-based Moroccan coyote film director develops an autobiographical movie exploring her relationship with her mother.

Still from Bouchra (2024)

COMMENTS: Directors Barki and Benami built a reputation for cinematic weirdness with their previous collaboration, the 2020 short-film series “2 Lizards,” which was featured on ‘s surreal mixtape program “Off the Air.” Bouchra, the team’s animated feature film debut, centers on the titular heroine, a young Moroccan woman living and working as a film director in New York City. The narrative alternates between her present life and her past in Casablanca, blurring reality with reconstruction as Bouchra attempts, through her work, to process her relationship with her semi-estranged Moroccan mother. The tensions between them stem from taboos surrounding Bouchra’s sexual identity that went unaddressed and ignored for years. Through calls with her mother in the present day, and reconstructions/reminisces of a short lesbian affair in Casablanca, these issues gradually come to light. Plus, the characters are all anthropomorphic animals of various species.

Like Endless Cookie (2025), Bouchra stands out due to the dissonance between its stylized animation and its grounded themes. The aesthetic—furry-inspired anthropomorphic animals in a neon-soaked, almost cyberpunk-like urban environment—can be off-putting at first. But this isn’t sci-fi or high fantasy. Naturalistic dialogue, overlapping and full of awkward stuttering, hints at something closer to reality. This is, essentially, a tale of familial ties, sexual orientation, and the way traditional societies consciously exile whatever disrupts the status quo. It is an empathetic tale, eager to show compassion and understand easily-disturbed norms. The furry aesthetic reveals the queerness of the bodies, their hairy, androgynous nature. This is especially apparent in two short, tasteful yet erotically-charged intimate segments. The dark color palette of New York contrasts with the warmer tones of Casablanca. Often, the uncanny, detailed digital character animations are juxtaposed against real background photographs of Morocco, for a documentary-like feel.

In the end, this movie can be viewed not only as American independent cinema, but also as Moroccan Diasporic Cinema. And since Moroccan cinema isn’t that common, this work can be recommended to fans of world cinema adventures.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Bouchra is filled with… small incidental details that dominate one’s attention, puncturing the otherwise fairly banal sheen of the piece as a whole and revealing a distinctive, weirdly effective work struggling valiantly against its miniscule [sic] budget.”–Grant Watson, Fiction Machine (festival screening)

I think this movie is weirder than average
I think this movie is better than average

It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue, List Candidates

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: TASHER DESH (2013)

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AKA The Land of Cards

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DIRECTED BY: Quashiq “Q” Mukherjee

FEATURING:, , Soumyak Kante De Biswas, , Tinu Verghese

PLOT: An exiled prince escapes from confinement, only to arrive in a strange land where all the residents dress as military regiments of playing cards; meanwhile, a writer struggles to imagine an screen adaptation of this story.

WHY IT MIGHT MAKE THE APOCRYPHA: Tasher Desh is a fascinating example of a weird movie that manages to get weirder entirely through attitude. The land of the playing-card people and their lockstep behavior is plenty strange, but the movie treats their situation with a baroque intensity, a gravity that overwhelms everything that has preceded it. One kind of strange is replaced with another, and an emotional ache that completely changes the viewing experience.

Still from Tasher Desh (2013)

COMMENTS: When last we met up with Q, he was sharing the adventures of a Kolkata street rat turned hardcore rapper. His adventurous tale carved out a niche distinct from his colleagues in the Indian film industry, eschewing colorful dances and crowd-pleasing romance in favor of drugs, hardcore sex, and verses spat out with boundless anger. So when we begin Tasher Desh by meeting a screenwriter who has been tasked with adapting Rabindrath Tagore’s 80-year-old play about a fantastical land where the population paints their faces white and assumes the roles of a platoon of playing cards, the writer’s confusion would seem to be a conduit for that of Q himself. Is this really his kind of film? Can he make the pivot from raw vérité to classic adaptation? The answer is, of course. The man’s a professional. But rest assured, it will not look anything like you’d suspect. Q is gonna Q. 

Tasher Desh spends its first hour establishing a mood of expectation. We hang out with the Prince and his retinue in their large but sparse prison, a cage that would be gilded if it were not made of rock and decorated with only the barest of furnishings, for a remarkably long time. The Prince chats with his mother, ignores his bevy of female attendants, sits around with his aide-de-camp, and plays marathon games of table tennis. Whatever he has done to merit this punishment (and the film is wisely silent on the subject), it’s a dreary fate. That he will want to escape seems a foregone conclusion.

Juxtaposed with the Prince’s misery is that of the screenwriter, who seems to learn the story and script the film in real time. Both men search for something to make sense of everything: for the Prince, an encounter with an exotic fortune teller seals the deal, while the screenwriter similarly meets a mysterious woman who shows him the way.

Here, halfway through the film, it’s fair to wonder who is the dog and who is the tail. The Prince and his pal wash up on an unfamiliar shore, and we immediately encounter the squadron of card people, a live-action version of the Red Queen’s brigade. They are stripped of all identity: hair hidden under a cap, clad in red and black uniforms, eyes concealed behind thick goggles, with their faces painted white and suits painted upon their lips. Only the numbers on their epaulets distinguish them. Their speech is captioned onscreen in bold all-caps blocks that threaten to fill half the screen. They are strange, single-minded, and fiercely xenophobic as they prepare to execute the newly arrived Prince. It’ll take some fancy speechifying to get out of this mess. Luckily for the Prince, he’s got that arrow in his quiver. 

There’s something delightfully demented about the seriousness with which Q treats this absurd premise. It’s not clear why the Prince’s words are so motivating, but maybe he’s the first voice of opposition the card people have ever encountered. Regardless, the speech ushers in an awakening that shatters the worldview of everyone on the island. The Prince and his story are essentially done with at this point, and we’re left with the cards—especially the female cards—and the existential earthquake they face. For some, it is a sexual awakening, for others, a crisis of identity. It’s a huge pivot, and Q treats this shift with the solemnity and intensity that follows a long-drawn out war. 

With multiple inspirations from literature, stage, and screen, Tasher Desh could be called derivative. Yet the sources are so many and so disparate that trying to tease them out ends up feeling foolish. The Tempest meets Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland meets Adaptation meets Lysistrata meets Pleasantville… trying to find a true antecedent is absurd. You’re better off with a different analogue altogether: it’s a Cobb salad, a track off Paul’s Boutique, a Rauschenberg montage. It synthesizes a diverse array of elements into something barely resembling its source material, something wholly new and strange. 

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“…not just a movie, but a surreal fever dream that completely rewired my brain…  while it might look like a straightforward ‘weird’ movie, ‘The Land of Cards’ is smarter than that. It’s a full-blown political allegory that isn’t afraid to question conformity, social structures, and the power of art.” – Brittany Vincent, Tom’s Guide

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

List Candidates

APOCRYPHA CANDIDATE: THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN (2023)

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DIRECTED BY: Joe Badon

FEATURING: Kali Russell, Jeff Pearson, Vincent Stalba

PLOT: Purity navigates a Choose Your Own Adventure-style novel as Joe Badon flips channels through his own narrative.

Still from The Wheel of Heaven (2023)

WHY IT MIGHT JOIN THE APOCRYPHA: The Wheel of Heaven unspools before the viewer as a direct conduit into the filmmaker’s mind (including his rapid-fire attention span). With Death, derricks, sex, and banana splits in the proceedings, Badon’s movie is as strange as it is hurried.

COMMENTS: Decades ago, in college, I received a professor’s feedback on a short-film screenplay I had submitted: “I don’t quite follow what’s going on, but it seems to be the screenplay you want to write.” This, perhaps, was the apex of my cinematic career. His (good natured) reaction came to mind recently concerning Joe Badon’s latest film, The Wheel of Heaven. First, because he includes an early scene wherein he explains his writing process; second, because, like my film teacher those many years ago, I did not quite follow what was going on, but strongly feel that this is the movie Badon wanted to make. It’s been argued (by me, at least) that art is best done for an audience of one; and it’s fortunate that Badon’s audience of one has such a scattered field of interests.

The Wheel of Heaven has a little something for everyone who is likely to find their way to this review (and indeed, this website). Do you enjoy silly humor, executed intelligently? Are you curious about the many elements of creative process behind filmmaking? Were you seeking a dessert-fueled monologue on the destruction inherent in creation? And, have you or any chill deuces in your ‘board crew been vexed by the man?

With the latter scenario, I recommend you telephone “Rad” Abrams, Skateboard Attorney. His information—as well as everything else I’ve been on about in the paragraph above—can be found in The Wheel of Heaven: a film as personal as it is unpretentious. The staccato pacing keeps an eyebrow raised and a smirk ever-forming as we travel between science fiction, philosophical thriller, news flashes, and ubiquitous ad parodies on Badon’s own BBDCCVTV station.

This acronym, like much of the film, is never explained. But the focus here is the process. That process? Creating—however you are able so to do. Badon has assembled a movie from cracked cathode-memories molded into a series of querical doorways. With only 100 minutes, he can only open and explore so many of them; but it isn’t life without choices. Perhaps, at the end of it all, we may be lucky enough to explore those prior paths unchosen. Until then, the only way to go is forward, even if it leads you back for a do-over.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“Completing a cycle of meta-chaos and matryoshka doll storytelling, filmmaker and master of the cosmic weird Joe Badon has crafted his most awesome and best movie to date.”–Bill Arcenaux, Moviegoing with Bill

The Wheel of Heaven [DVD]

The Wheel of Heaven [DVD]
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Capsules, It Came from the Reader-Suggested Queue

IT CAME FROM THE READER-SUGGESTED QUEUE: SNOW WHITE AND RUSSIAN RED (2009)

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Wojna polsko-ruska (Polish-Russian War)

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DIRECTED BY: Xawery Żuławski

FEATURING: Borys Szyc, Roma Gąsiorowska, Maria Strzelecka, Sonia Bohosiewicz, Anna Prus, Dorota Masłowska

PLOT: Against the backdrop of ongoing tensions between Poland and Russia, Silny, a drug-using student, pines for his unfaithful girlfriend Magda; he sublimates his pain through hedonism, but begins to question his role in the universe and the very nature of his own reality. 

COMMENTS: Finding a suitable title to sell a movie to another country’s audience is not the least challenge foreign films face. If a direct translation doesn’t work, then you have to come up with something that makes sense to a different culture without betraying the original spirit. By this standard, Snow White and Russian Red is a pretty good effort, evoking the colors of the Polish flag while referencing two of the protagonist’s greatest foes: the cocaine that provides an escape and the oppressors who continue to loom over Polish life even decades after the fall of communism. Nice work, title translators.

The undercurrent of politics is a constant in Snow White and Russian Red, and Silny, looking like the lead singer of Right Said Fred and alternating between uncontrolled violence and tearful self-pity, is ill-equipped to understand any of it. He is supposedly pursuing a business degree, he is surrounded by decadent baubles of the West like beauty pageants and fast-food joints, and he dreams of living in a McMansion in a suburb where everything looks the same. But he’s continually drawn back to Magda, the hot blonde in the Soviet-red dress whose infidelities infuriate him and only make him want her more. They are beyond co-dependent; they are perpetually locked in each other’s orbits, pushed and pulled by gravity.

Someone more well-versed in the particulars of Polish politics and society could do a better job of deciphering the allusions that populate the film, particularly the women who simultaneously entice and frustrate Silny’s attempts to find escape through sex: Angela, the nihilistic goth who embraces suicide but also is protective of her virginity; Arleta, who seems to want Silny’s affections but consistently irritates him with insulting gossip; Natasha, the tough girl who teases Silny but is so focused on getting her next hit that she snorts powdered soup broth; and Ala, the cute nerd who loves her parents but gets physically aroused talking about this amazing 16-year-old writer she’s discovered named Dorota. Silny feels superior to all of them on an intellectual level, but consistently fails to score sexually. If director Żuławski (son of Andrzej) has any metaphor to convey, it’s that Poland is like Silny, neither fish nor fowl, small on the world stage but unsatisfied at home. 

But while there’s the sociopolitical allegory going on, there’s also a weirder level of surrealism that suggests what we’re seeing is somewhere beyond the realm of reality. Within the opening minutes, an irate Silny deploys cartoon physics to fling his erstwhile girlfriend across the room. When Angela gets sick during a two-person dance party, she spews sick like a fire hose, and then upchucks rocks. Silny engages in a ridiculous fight with nearly everybody in a public park, dispatching them with greater ease than Neo in The Matrix. But it’s only with Silny’s arrest for fighting that we jump headfirst into the rabbit hole, when he is led to the desk of a clerk named Dorota Masłowska. Those in the know will recognize that name as belonging to the author of the original novel upon which this film is based. (Also, the same teen author who got Ala hot and bothered.) Turns out that’s not just a cheeky tip-of-the-cap; we’re looking at the genuine article. We’ve actually seen Masłowska before, moping around in a striped hoodie and narrating some of Silny’s story in the first person, but now that they’re face-to face, she can demonstrate her omnipotence by forcing him to do her bidding and literally deconstructing the set. It’s a pivot that evidently comes straight from the book, a piece of meta-narrative that Żuławski replicates with the author’s participation. It’s also a twist that only muddies the waters. The godlike powers of the author don’t equate neatly to the forces keeping Silny down, or to Poland, for that matter. It’s just a whole other element that Żuławski and Masłowska want to play with, and it doesn’t serve the story or stand on its own. It’s a hat being worn on top of another hat.

After despairing about ever knowing what in his life is real, Silny rams his head into a wall and finds himself in Hell, which turns out to be a talk show where he fabricates his encounters with the devil for the audience’s amusement. Masłowska is in that crowd, too, and if anything sums up the arc of Snow White and Russian Red, it’s this: a character reckoning with things he can hardly understand, and the author who created him sitting in judgment. It’s a dance that seemingly has no end.

WHAT THE CRITICS SAY:

“The visually splashy sophomore effort of Polish helmer Xawery Zulawski is just as helter-skelter as the spiky local literary sensation that inspired it, but is finally too thematically anemic to provide any real dazzle… no amount of wacky occurrences can substitute for any deeper insight or suggest possible solutions. This makes the film totally static on a thematic level, despite its pumping soundtrack, roving camera, often psychedelic lighting and snazzy (though thankfully not hysterical) editing. Effects work and wire-fu fight scenes add to the generally off-the-wall tone.” – Boyd van Hoeij, Variety (contemporaneous)

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

Wojna Polsko-Ruska

Wojna Polsko-Ruska
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