You know what comes next. It’s one of the few films I’ve seen that remains unsettling to look at each time because of the infamous razor across the eye. I know it’s not a human eye but it’s still creepy. As a surrealist film, it lives up to it’s name, even though there is no Andalusian dog in sight. I’m baffled as to what it means, if anything.
As far as my unsliced eyes can see, there’s a stalker with ants coming from his hand who goes after a woman. He hauls dead cows on pianos/ living priests as he comes closer. A hand is found in the street, an urban opposite to the ear in the grass from Blue Velvet. A striped box is important somehow. Books become pistols. Death happens in a grassy field. A man with no mouth magically transfers a woman’s armpit hair to his mouth. We end with a trip to the beach as a dead couple becomes buried in the sand.
I couldn’t dream up something like this even with the most potent materials available. It defies all reasonable logic. That said, dream logic is the only way any of it makes sense. The film behaves like a dream. Nothing is really explained but items become associated with themes that could only be understood by the dreamer.
It’s better than Wavelength. In conclusion: finnicky poison goldfish cupcake. Once upon a time.
1001 MYMSBYD selection