Swiss Army Man (2016)
Starring Daniel Radcliffe, Paul Dano
Directed by Dan Kwan and Daniel Scheinert
How do you quantify originality? There’s a saying amongst writers that there are only six stories that have ever been told within the entire fabric of time. And those six stories have been broken up, rearranged, contrived, and distorted into a million different permutations which constitute our understanding of narrative throughout the history of recorded man. There’s a direct correlation to be made between the cave drawings and Shakespeare. Mark Twain to Tarantino. It’s how we express our deepest, most basest emotions, our avenue for understanding the unknowable, for breaching the barrier between the cosmic and the mundane.
We utilize this glorious human invention of narrative storytelling to draw more from the world than what’s readily apparent. We use it to explore, to imagine, to create and subvert. Stories are what have inspired me for as long as I can remember. And when I find one which unearths something previously unseen within the fabric of my being, I can’t help but proclaim it in the most pontificus terminology at my disposal and with as much passion as I can articulate.
That’s all a build-up to this statement: Swiss Army Man is one of, if not the, most sublime demonstrations of narrative and emotional cinematic resonance which I have witnessed in a very long time. And it is my hope that you will all witness it for yourselves.
I was lucky enough to attend the 2016 Sundance Film Festival, and while there I heard reports that one particular movie’s premiere screening was plagued by walkouts from festival goers. Dubbed the “farting corpse movie,” Swiss Army Man‘s reputation began as a grand subversive experiment where the artist formerly known as Harry Potter played a corpse for the entirety of the film. As resident appreciator of schlock amongst my friends and colleagues, I made sure to have a seat at the next screening without a clue as to what I was in store for. It was like a freight train to the face. I laughed, I cried, and upon leaving the theater, my face hurt from smiling for so long. Of all the films that I saw at Sundance, which included possible Best Picture contender Birth of a Nation, THIS farting corpse movie was hands down my favorite. And after witnessing the film again upon its wide release, I contend that it would also rank amongst my favorite cinematic experiences of all time.
For the record, it won’t do the film justice for me to summarize the plot specifics, but in short, it’s the story of Hank, a man stranded on a desert island who attempts to survive with the help of a dead body who washes up on the shore named Manny. Telling you more would be a disservice to what I cannot oversell as a transcendent experience for those who count themselves amongst we lovers of story. And for the longest time I could not quite put my finger on why I felt this way about this particular film, like feeling an emotion without the words to properly articulate it. Swiss Army Man is deceptively simple, expertly directed and written by the filmmaking duo “Daniels.” It is also a two-hander, with Paul Dano’s and Daniel Radcliffe’s performances adeptly hefting the story through its paces by displaying some of the best work that either actor has accomplished in their respective and illustrious careers. The music is instantly iconic. The technical design and aesthetics of the film are of the highest artistic standard. But, in fairness, a lot of movies have each of these qualities. Most films are made with competent artisans and actors whose goal is to entertain the audience at large. I have no doubt that was the goal of this film, a goal at which it excels in spades. So, what is that singular nugget of originality which allows this farting corpse movie to stand above all others, above films with arguably more profound and prestigious subject matters? Films with specific agendas or ideas or larger metaphorical reasons for existing?
The only conclusion on which I can find any sure footing is that it’s because this film does not have any of that.
The story of Swiss Army Man is just that… a story. There are no metaphorical allegories teeming beneath the surface of this narrative. There is no ulterior motive to the plot or the characters’ actions, no political ideologies or finger-pointing accusations of a negligent society. This movie has no agenda. Neither is it coarse. Mean. Vindictive. Ironic. Or self-congratulatory. There is no villain for the characters to overcome. No plight with the fate of the free world dangling into balance. It’s not even realistic! The film is an organic expression of fantasy mixed with delicate splashes of reality and metaphysical resonance. It is able to utilize fart jokes, dick jokes, decapitated raccoons, necrophilia, and loneliness to incredible emotional effect. It is a story within its own universe, a tale only able to be told through the magic of filmmaking. A film that defies genre, good taste, realism, and even sensationalism. For every moment of ridiculous body humor, there is a small, concentrated moment of human understanding, visualized through the actions and blossoming friendship between a man and a corpse, with the most poignant message imaginable at its narrative core: that we are all special.
Dead or not. Handsome or not. Socially adept or not. The fact that we are alive is a gift. Something as simple as looking out a window or talking to someone that you love or farting; all of these are wonderfully complicated shared experiences that traverse the expanse of humanity itself. It’s a simple idea, I know. But it is so important. Swiss Army Man is the herald which trumpets a revolutionary way of seeing the world and telling stories. Without irony or self-importance, without care for social acceptance or status norms, but by understanding that every person is, in his or her own perfect way, special and worthy of love, this film becomes the very thing which it exudes. It is an earnest exercise in life for life’s sake seen through the eyes of a dead man.
There have been a few times in my life when I have witnessed a film that makes me question how I view the form. Pulp Fiction, I believe, was the first, the one that blasted the floodgates, which made me see storytelling as something bigger than entertainment. These types of films are few and far between, and while the yearly output of stories from Hollywood is unique and brilliant in its own right, I always have kept a look out for something on which I could not place a label. Something wholly unique. Something organic. Something that I have no idea how they pulled it off but am so elated that they did. In short, I was looking for something special.
Something exactly like Swiss Army Man.
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Film
Categorized:Reviews
