Damián Szifrón’s unabashedly violent anthology Wild Tales is total guano. The nutrient-rich, black market, Ace Ventura “they use it to make everything” guano. That is, Szifrón’s smokin’ opus is batshit in all the rights ways – it’s ironic, smart, blisteringly funny and downright brutal. It’s a concoction of true madness and borderline genius, shaken up and exploding onto the screen in gory, imaginative splashes.
Like any anthology, you’re always going to have some segments that succeed more than others and that fate doesn’t escape Szifrón. His best material is used up first with a trio of fast-paced, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sketches that set up the hilariously violent and deeply serendipitous world that Wild Tales takes place in. Though the closing sequence is one of the most masterfully constructed, even it cannot match the decadent fun of that initial three step tango.
The first segment, which can be loosely considered a twisted prologue, is called “Pasternak” and deals in the currency of coincidence. Having consumed it, just the name “Pasternak” is likely to induce a smile. Soon after boarding a flight, two passengers discover that they have a peer of sorts in common. It just so happens that neither of them ended their relationship with said peer on particularly pleasant terms. When a third and fourth passenger reveal that they too know the party in question, events quickly veer towards black humor at 600 mph. To reveal anymore about this high-flying farce would be to rob “Pasternak” of its punch but let’s just say that it sets the bar improbably high.
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In my screening, Pasternak evoked fits of rampant laughter amongst my audience, a group of mixed ages who were positively tickled. I admittedly was as well. The dark humor and sly satire is presented with a smarmy self-awareness that totally summons the delightfully offbeat tendencies of director and Wild Tales producer Pedro Almodóvar (The Skin I Live In). You can feel the hot, toying breathe of Almodóvar all over this Argentine-Spanish feature.
Rat poison, road rage, tow trucks, hit and runs and a supremely botched wedding all follow with each “wild tale” tucking into the deliciously devious nature that Szifrón has brewed up to various extent. Each short explores a different theme but is done with such a tongue-in-cheek, satirical form that you might be too busy laughing to catch the point. Many deal with the notion of “the breaking point,” be that in a professional-sense, with the government or with a random passerby. What is that final straw that tips up towards madness? What motivates us towards revenge? Is there ever such thing as a clean getaway? Szifrón doesn’t plan to answer these questions so much as raise them as one might an eyebrow.
While I would be hard pressed to deem any of the shorts unworthy, the middle portion of the film hit a bit of a lull with “The Proposal”, a segment that provided a low point in terms of creativity and comedy both. As the most straight-faced of the bunch, it sticks out as melodramatic, save for a heavily forecasted twist of Grecian fate in its closing moments. With so many other fantastic elements in the film, “The Proposal”‘s existence within its middle makes the tail end drag and forces the film beyond the two hour mark. Were a more time-conscious editor on board, I would think it would have crash landed like a certain pilot onto the cutting room floor.
Although the anthology film has seen a bit of a revival of late within the horror genre (three V/H/S films, ABCs of Death 1&2), Wild Tales seeks to raise the bar on the narrative gimmick like he’s James Cameron in a South Park episode. Gone are the multiple directors and in its place is a much more focused, singular vision. No Szifrón doesn’t define his feature by narrative consistency but much like the BBC’s Black Mirror, the shorts are stitched together through their overarching sense of exaggerated realism. In Black Mirror, this narrative trope can be seen in the explorations of technology’s pitfalls and the dangers of our reliance on such. Wild Tales also exaggerates the idea of violent and revenge but is much more nonchalant about its purpose. In large part due to this, Szifrón is able to comment like a certified peanut gallery member. He truly has his cake and blows it up too.
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By: Matt Oakes
Started blogging about film in college when the university paper wouldn’t have him. Dislikes your consensus film Twitter favorites. Devotee of horror movies that make him die a little inside. Catches films at festivals when he can. Proud SFCS and OFCS member and Tomatometer-approved critic. Editor-in-chief of Silver Screen Riot.
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