Sweet Movie

They don't make movies like this anymore. Even Dusan Makavejev himself shied from experimenting further along the route of sexual anarchy, ending up as a pale shadow of his former, rousing self. It brings to memory the golden days of the early 70's, when radical sex and politics thrived in the cinemas along with traditional Hollywood-fare, and movies were still considered dangerous and subversive. The movie itself is funny, tasteless, allegorical and even has glorious in-jokes. Like the river-boat "Potemkin" sailing down the Seine with the enormous head of Lenin in the prow. The gold-painted, urinating penis was, by the way, not cut from the picture when I saw it at the age of 15. I never recovered from the shock.

I've seen people write that the only true Surrealist films were made in the 20's-30's with of course Bunuel's Un Chien Andalou heading the pack. Now "Sweet Movie" might not be a true Surrealist film, but I think an argument can be made that it's definitely surrealism that follows the path of the aforementioned classic from Bunuel. I've seen Jodorowsky referenced to describe it, and to me it was reminiscent of Fernando Arrabal's stuff, aside from the obvious shocking imagery and 70's vibe.

I've just watched it, and besides some symbolism (repressed/sheltered life vs "liberation"), I'm not going to champion the film as having some deep meaning behind it. There is an evident juxtaposition of innocence (Miss Virginity) and the surreal messed up journey she embarks on and the abuse she has to endure, along with interspersed Holocaust footage and a parallel tale of a supposedly Communist woman and her deviant activities and relationship with a fellow revolutionary. What ensues are scenes that are designed to shock, but Makavejev would probably say that he wanted to "Freudian out" with it. Despite the plethora of shock scenes, there are definitely humorous parts and it's all done in a lighthearted manner to me).

I didn't think it was great, as it was too much of an amalgamation with no strong substance, but it still works for what it was (see above) and besides being offbeat it had an inviting festive vibe (combined with the exploitation!). I suppose art-house exploitation is a proper title.

Wow, this movie may not be the greatest surreal movie put to film but the director, Dusan Makavejev, sure didn't pull any punches. As I talk about the story, keep in mind that I'm not making this up. An oil millionaire is holding a beauty contest to find himself a virgin bride. It can't be just any virgin bride. She has to be willing to be urinated on by the millionaires golden penis which he proudly shows off in the film many times. No, folks, it's not a statue or anything, he just happens to have a gold penis. He finds the seemingly perfect bride but she doesn't take well to this lifestyle after awhile and runs away. She ends up in a large suitcase which ends up being shipped to France. Once there she still finds a life of weirdness and nothing but strange people. She eventually comes across a commune where a large number of people urinate all over each other and eat their own feces and rub it all over each others bodies. The story, if you can call it that, also involves a sailer and a girl named Capt. Ann who can't get enough sex. Eventually there is a love scene which takes place in a large tub of sugar which turns to a sticky red batter after being bloodied up by Ann stabbing her partner. Keep in mind this is all surrealism and perhaps a little of the directors sick self-indulgence. I only understood a little of what I saw after seeing one of the special features on the DVD. You really need to know a little about foreign politics of the 60's to understand the film which I don't. I get the feeling however that even with that education you will be scratching your head for a lot of the movie. Surprisingly, there is actually a decent soundtrack to the film as one of the songs heard was actually a hit in Europe and is quite nice. Keep in mind, this is not a sex film but uses it to attack us in an unsettling way. I promise you won't be turned on by any of those scenes. Although I can't say I really liked this film since I didn't find the entire thing interesting, I can say that it's a hard movie to be passive about because of the symbolism I actually did understand. Watch at your own risk!

First reaction to this challenging and astonishing film might be to pronounce it depraved or that the director is but then there is no suggestion that one will come away from this unique film a less moral person and so the accusation fails. Certainly I would like to think that for everybody there will be at least some part of this they find hard to take, indeed I don't think I would like to sit too closely to anyone who lapped up every frame. Excess of all kind on display here plus a really difficult striptease among young children. And yet, I think despite some of the more flip and seeming silliness, Makavejev is screaming out for the individual to rediscover his private and public freedom. The Soviet Union comes in for most of the kicking, but then why wouldn't it in 1974 when they were still presiding over the director's birthplace and still denying the massacre of Poles so distressingly shown in original b/w footage. Personally, having previously only encountered Otto Muehl through the films of Kurt Kren, I found his antics here the hardest to take. Here the overt element of homoerotic SM as overweight men spat and sicked up over each other seemed to go further than the catharsis of those other movies. But hey someone might find those bit's the best. Brave, bold and very well shot with a marvellous soundtrack.

Dusan Makaveyev views--or viewed, back in the day--cinema as a form of Reichian orgone therapy. He sought to do to the spectator what a Reichian analyst does to a patient: take them out of their culturally accreted "armor" and return them to the Self Within. As the therapist tries to "free up" the encrusted body, so does Makaveyev try to free us up--in this picture, with a climax that violates so many taboos of civilization I dare anyone, even the most liberal-minded, not to be helplessly physically revulsed by it. This seems to be Makaveyev's aim: to push us through our ingrained disgusts to get us back in touch with the palpable physicality of being human. This means a long scene in which the eating of a meal gets mixed up with bulimic yakking, spitting, gargling, drooling, the smearing of food, and finally, ecstatically, a display of public execration.

Back to anality, to fluids, to helpless babbling and expectorating--this is where Makaveyev wants us to go: pre-art, pre-politics, back to the anal-infantile wallow in the flesh. Makaveyev, even more than Cronenberg, is the most bodily of directors. You can almost reach out and feel everyone in this movie, from Mr. Muscles, a blankly grinning black bodybuilder, to the icky slobs spitting green beans on a huge, allegorical boat. Makaveyev is Mr. Anti-Transcendence. The tingling of nerves of our imperfect bodies is all we have. Makaveyev uses shock tactics to take us back there--like cutting from a gentle romantic scene to the ultimate anti-Reichian use of the body: Nazi doctors prodding at charred corpses.

In its wild and easy mingling of the pornographic, the horrific, and the gag-reflex-destructive, SWEET MOVIE feels like one of the (willfully) freest movies ever made. Makaveyev is a master filmmaker who was most recently found, via the Internet, as an instructor at Harvard, where one of his jobs was to "moderate" and politely sit by an undergraduate audience with Mel Gibson. Times ain't what they used to be for an anarchic, anti-ideological egghead/hedonist. Dig up SWEET MOVIE and mourn the world that could've been.