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RUBBER
* * * * (2010, 82 minutes, Unrated)
For when you're tire-d of the same ol' thing.
It may not be a household name like Impressionism or as iconic as Art Deco, but my favorite art
movement by far is Surrealism. Unlike the pretentious splattering of abstract expressionism,
surrealism is a celebration of the non-sequitur, a conscious distortion of reality into something
unreal or dream-like. Ever see one of those pictures of all the dripping clocks? That’s surrealism
(courtesy of Salvador Dali).
My favorite surrealist is Belgian painter Rene Magritte. He’s probably best-known for his paintings
of faceless men in bowler hats. He also did The Treachery of Images, which I've helpfully included
below. That phrase in French translates to “This is not a pipe.” Which, literally speaking, it’s not.
* * * * (2010, 82 minutes, Unrated)
For when you're tire-d of the same ol' thing.
It may not be a household name like Impressionism or as iconic as Art Deco, but my favorite art
movement by far is Surrealism. Unlike the pretentious splattering of abstract expressionism,
surrealism is a celebration of the non-sequitur, a conscious distortion of reality into something
unreal or dream-like. Ever see one of those pictures of all the dripping clocks? That’s surrealism
(courtesy of Salvador Dali).
My favorite surrealist is Belgian painter Rene Magritte. He’s probably best-known for his paintings
of faceless men in bowler hats. He also did The Treachery of Images, which I've helpfully included
below. That phrase in French translates to “This is not a pipe.” Which, literally speaking, it’s not.
 |
This kind of art might not be your cup of tea, and that’s fine. But consider that movies are
inherently surreal.
Think about it: Most movies tend to look a whole lot like reality, save for the common existence of
superheroes or giant lizards or zombies or whatever. Or perhaps the film is more subtle in its
surrealism, taking place in the kind of world where everyone seems to be a kung fu master or an
elite assassin, or where the amusing but slobbish man-child gets together with a woman way out
of his league.
So you can find surreal elements in almost any film. But Rubber, the story of a psionic killer car
tire, is capital-S Surreal.
A film about a killer tire must sound completely random to you (because it is), but it’s actually
pretty inspired. The tire makes for a brilliant "monster": We can kind of understand the needs and
motivations of a typical movie monster -- your giant bugs, mutant lizards, space invaders, etc. But
a tire? What could a tire want? What does it need?
inherently surreal.
Think about it: Most movies tend to look a whole lot like reality, save for the common existence of
superheroes or giant lizards or zombies or whatever. Or perhaps the film is more subtle in its
surrealism, taking place in the kind of world where everyone seems to be a kung fu master or an
elite assassin, or where the amusing but slobbish man-child gets together with a woman way out
of his league.
So you can find surreal elements in almost any film. But Rubber, the story of a psionic killer car
tire, is capital-S Surreal.
A film about a killer tire must sound completely random to you (because it is), but it’s actually
pretty inspired. The tire makes for a brilliant "monster": We can kind of understand the needs and
motivations of a typical movie monster -- your giant bugs, mutant lizards, space invaders, etc. But
a tire? What could a tire want? What does it need?
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| This is not a pipe... It's a JPEG. |
| Right now, this tire needs to worm its way out of a ticket. |
Much of the film is devoted to just those kind of questions. We see the tire first gain awareness,
and watch as it tries to figure out the world around it and its own capabilities. Unable to roll over
and flatten a glass beer bottle, the tire trembles with frustration and shatters the bottle with a
psioinic blast. The tire tests out this new ability on a tin can, and then a rabbit, a crow… if you're
suddenly thinking about Scanners and don't know why, it's because you can see where this is
going. But it’s all handled with an earnestness that keeps the film from becoming Attack of the
Killer Tomatoes (which wouldn’t have been a bad thing, just a very different thing).
Oh, that’s not to say the film isn’t heavy-handed about it at times. Take the opening scene
(please!): A car slowly runs down a bunch of identical kitchen chairs randomly set up on a
desolate southwestern dirt road. A cop (Tony-winner Stephen Spinella) climbs out of the trunk.
and watch as it tries to figure out the world around it and its own capabilities. Unable to roll over
and flatten a glass beer bottle, the tire trembles with frustration and shatters the bottle with a
psioinic blast. The tire tests out this new ability on a tin can, and then a rabbit, a crow… if you're
suddenly thinking about Scanners and don't know why, it's because you can see where this is
going. But it’s all handled with an earnestness that keeps the film from becoming Attack of the
Killer Tomatoes (which wouldn’t have been a bad thing, just a very different thing).
Oh, that’s not to say the film isn’t heavy-handed about it at times. Take the opening scene
(please!): A car slowly runs down a bunch of identical kitchen chairs randomly set up on a
desolate southwestern dirt road. A cop (Tony-winner Stephen Spinella) climbs out of the trunk.
| Fun Fact That May Only Be Fun To Me: I actually saw Mr. Spinella on Broadway in his Tony-winning role in Angels in America. He was amazing, as was a pre-Felix Leiter Jeffrey Wright (who also won an Tony). Easily the best play I've ever seen. ~ Nolahn |
He gets a glass of water, and
then addresses the audience
directly, rhapsodizing about
the lack of reason to things in
films (e.g., Why no one ever
seems to go to the
bathroom).
The reason, according to
Officer Spinella, is No
Reason. “All great films,
without exception, contain an
important element of No
Reason,” Officer Spinella
says before dumping out his
glass of water and climbing
back into his trunk.
But that’s a straw argument,
then addresses the audience
directly, rhapsodizing about
the lack of reason to things in
films (e.g., Why no one ever
seems to go to the
bathroom).
The reason, according to
Officer Spinella, is No
Reason. “All great films,
without exception, contain an
important element of No
Reason,” Officer Spinella
says before dumping out his
glass of water and climbing
back into his trunk.
But that’s a straw argument,
isn’t it? There’s always a reason -- it’s just that those reasons often don’t have anything to do with
the plotline. We don’t see characters stop to use the bathroom because it slows down the flow of
the film. Sometimes the reason is simply that the plot requires it. And in this opening scene, the
reason behind nearly everything that happens isn’t No Reason -- it’s to make a point.
Same could be said about the group of people watching all the action from a distance with
binoculars. They’re clearly stand-ins for you, the movie-watcher, emulating the audience’s
voyeurism and desire to See Something Happen. Then again, that whole last sentence was
probably a given. And I still don’t know what to make of the ending of the film, which seems to
suggest an out-of-left-field rebellion against the Hollywood establishment.
I don’t mean to sound down on Rubber, because there’s a lot to like about this film -- the stuff it
does well, it does very well. This is a gorgeously shot film filled with lots of fun moments. The
filmmakers get a lot of personality out of the tire (“Robert,“ we learn in the end credits), and that‘s
the kind of thing that can make or break the film. There’s a clever scene halfway through the film
when Officer Spinella tries to dismiss his fellow officers because he thinks the audience is gone,
as if to suggest that this is what movie characters do when not onscreen. And I particularly liked
the cliché “character looks at self in mirror, wondering what he has become” scene done with a
tire.
At the end of the day, your tolerance for this kind of surrealism is going to determine whether or not
you enjoy Rubber. I thoroughly enjoyed it -- unevenness and all -- though I could completely
understand someone blasting it in the comments section. Like a lot of art, its beauty is in the eye
of the beholder.
the plotline. We don’t see characters stop to use the bathroom because it slows down the flow of
the film. Sometimes the reason is simply that the plot requires it. And in this opening scene, the
reason behind nearly everything that happens isn’t No Reason -- it’s to make a point.
Same could be said about the group of people watching all the action from a distance with
binoculars. They’re clearly stand-ins for you, the movie-watcher, emulating the audience’s
voyeurism and desire to See Something Happen. Then again, that whole last sentence was
probably a given. And I still don’t know what to make of the ending of the film, which seems to
suggest an out-of-left-field rebellion against the Hollywood establishment.
I don’t mean to sound down on Rubber, because there’s a lot to like about this film -- the stuff it
does well, it does very well. This is a gorgeously shot film filled with lots of fun moments. The
filmmakers get a lot of personality out of the tire (“Robert,“ we learn in the end credits), and that‘s
the kind of thing that can make or break the film. There’s a clever scene halfway through the film
when Officer Spinella tries to dismiss his fellow officers because he thinks the audience is gone,
as if to suggest that this is what movie characters do when not onscreen. And I particularly liked
the cliché “character looks at self in mirror, wondering what he has become” scene done with a
tire.
At the end of the day, your tolerance for this kind of surrealism is going to determine whether or not
you enjoy Rubber. I thoroughly enjoyed it -- unevenness and all -- though I could completely
understand someone blasting it in the comments section. Like a lot of art, its beauty is in the eye
of the beholder.
Congratulations! You've just made it through Nolahn's very first joke-free
review. Don't expect this to become a habit.
If you'd like to read more about Rubber, check out what these Friends of
The 'Bin had to say...
COOL AWESOME MOVIES
DR. GORE'S MOVIE REVIEWS
GEEKS OF DOOM
RACHEL'S REEL REVIEWS
RANDOM RAMBLINGS OF A DEMENTED DOORKNOB
review. Don't expect this to become a habit.
If you'd like to read more about Rubber, check out what these Friends of
The 'Bin had to say...
COOL AWESOME MOVIES
DR. GORE'S MOVIE REVIEWS
GEEKS OF DOOM
RACHEL'S REEL REVIEWS
RANDOM RAMBLINGS OF A DEMENTED DOORKNOB
| '12 Binnie Winner! |