Shit blows up. By “shit” I mean small animals, humans, humans and more humans. Maybe that’s why it was largely panned at Cannes this year.
I don’t like French comedy. It upsets me. By “upsets,” I mean French comedies make me want to fill a suitcase up with box cutters, fly to France and go on an extensive killing spree. I once landed the job to rewrite the popular French comedy Tanguy about a 30-year-old guy who lives with his parents. I then immediately lost the job when I sat down with an executive to talk about what I would do and I told him I didn’t like the film. Oops. Sorry for being honest about that piece of shit. Noticed it was never made.
So, anytime I watch a French comedy of any sort I go in hating it. I despise their quirky nonsense and Rubber had quirky nonsense written all over it. It’s about a tire that goes on a killing spree, for God’s sake. So, how long did it take for Rubber to win me over? Thirty seconds. The first minute of this movie and I was in sweet, sweet love, dashing down Parisian streets in one of their stupid hats, wearing one of those retarded striped shirts and cramming a croissant in my mouth. It’s quirky done right. I’m talking to you Amelie.
I should mention this film stars American actors – except for the hot girl. Apparently she had to be imported. It was written and directed by Quentin Dupieux and follows a tire that comes to life with the sole purpose of killing. The tire then takes us on an assault of filmmaking and cleverly attacks film viewers themselves in a smart “which came first, the chicken or the egg” sort of way.
And shit blows up. By “shit” I mean small animals, humans, humans and more humans. Maybe that’s why it was largely panned at Cannes this year. Or maybe they despised it because the film’s message was explanation is irrelevant. Or, they could just be idiots. Go see Rubber. Half of you will love it and the other half of you will hate it. The haters are dumb.