Starring: Fatma Mohamed, Asa Butterfield, Ariane Labed, Gwendoline Christie, Richard Bremmer, Leo Bill
Distributor: Arclight Films
Runtime: 111 mins. Reviewed in Sep 2022
Reviewer: Fr Peter Malone msc
More than a touch of the esoteric in a British institute for ‘sonic caterers’ and their performance art, a collective finds themselves embroiled in power struggles, artistic vendettas and gastrointestinal disorders.
This will depend on your predilection for the esoteric. And, the esoteric can sometimes be both exotic and bizarre evoking curiosity and repugnance.
British director Strickland has made a number of esoteric films (and the leading actress here, Romanian Fatma Mohamed has appeared in all his key films). Peter Strickland’s films are definitely for a specialist audience, films which would find their place in an art gallery or an Institute for installations. While Flux Gourmet was filmed in Yorkshire, there is a continental flavour in its casting and use of different languages.
We are introduced to a specialist institution for Sonic Caterers, presided over by an imperious director, Jan Stephens (Christie). She accepts limited clients, in this case only three, Elle di Elle (Mohamed), Lamina Propria (Labed) and, prosaically, Billy (Butterfield). We are treated to their performance art, mime, music, sound engineering, alimentary performance. Definitely esoteric. They live in a kind of dormitory, are bound to a strict regime, but there are emotional tensions amongst them.
And for fashion enthusiasts, the range of costumes, style, shapes and colours worn by Christie are distractingly exotic.
In some ways, the story is narrated by a journalist who has been hired to interview and publicise the Institute and its performers, Stones (Makis Papadimitriou) who is suffering from all kinds of gastric ailments and flatulence, interviewed by the resident doctor, the Greek mythology-quoting and supercilious Dr Glock (Bremmer). We are invited to share Stones’ stomach-turning misery (although there is a final plea for gluten-free food).
A commentator raised a significant issue: is this a lavish and colourful satire on pretentious art and performance? Or is it in itself pretentious art and performance? Probably the answer is not either-or but rather both-and. It certainly does mock characters, situations, aspirations to artistic grandeur. But, by using pretentiousness of style, Strickland is able to capitalise on satire as well as have his cinema art ambitions.
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