The Lobster
A lack of consistency stops it from reaching perfection
The debut English-language feature from Greek director Yorgos Lanthimos is a deadpan satire that deals with the social stigma that comes with being single. A Cannes winner and Oscar-contender, the controversial Dogtooth was a homeschooling dystopia that introduced Lanthimos’s stylish, surreal vision to the world, and now, with The Lobster, he moves into the mainstream, an international cast at his side.
In the outside cities couples live relatively normal lives, while those unfortunate enough to be without a partner are sent to an unspecified, Alpine-looking location, to a hotel where they are rehabilitated, forced to match with another person within a 45 day period or else are turned into an animal of their choice by the staff. After the death of his wife it is to this hotel that Colin Farrell’s moustachioed, doughy David is taken, along with his recently-transformed dog/brother, and when asked which animal he would prefer, a lobster is his answer.
It’s a fascinating premise, and at least for the first half the film explores this premise brilliantly in its own insular space, but as with the director’s previous films the tone is stretched almost to breaking point. The straight-faced humour, the utter seriousness that characters display in these completely ridiculous situations are what make the film so watchable, but tangents are taken and some areas feel unexplored. When David is asked for his sexual preference, bisexuality is not an option due to ‘logistical reasons’ and homosexuality is barely mentioned; similarly it’s when the narrative abandons the hotel setting that it loses its charm and the awkward, desperate encounters that drive the first half are left behind as David joins the ‘loners’, a group of dissenters living in the forest led by Lea Seydoux, periodically hunted by the guests. It still works, but the script by Lanthimos and long-time writing partner Efthymis Filippou drags, and it turns into a heist movie.
It’s impossible to point to an outstanding performance because they’re all doing the same thing. The same, monotonous thing. British actors Olivia Coleman, Ben Whishaw and Ashley Jensen are all there, as well as a lisping John C. Reilly, and it’s oddly satisfying to watch them struggle to conform. A film like The Lobster is a rarity, its unique brand of the surreal echoing filmmakers like Buñuel and Dulac; the concept is ingenious, but a lack of consistency stops it from reaching perfection.
7/10
