directed by Chris Cunningham
Sometimes, you hear a thing you cannot unhear, and sometimes you see a thing you cannot unsee. Someone breaking a limb. Tom Cruise dancing on BET. Howard Dean’s epic scream. Prepare to add two more things to that grand list, and I’ll say “you’re welcome” in advance. Chris Cunningham has long been the experimentalist, from working with Stanley Kubrick on his never realized film, A.I. (Speilberg’s conversation piece was the final fruition of said film) to his short films and music videos, Cunningham has set the bar for strange in a way all his own. In Aphex Twin mastermind Richard David James, Cunningham finds a kindred spirit. Or someone willing to let him just get as freaky as he wants. Either way, the results are nightmare inducing, and possibly gag reflex inducing. In Come to Daddy, Cunningham spins the yarn of a poor old woman terrorized by some scary ass kids (all bearing Richard’s face), then finds herself face to face with a devil spawned from the television underworld. For Rubber Johnny, Cunningham uses infrared video and prosthetics to create another nightmare based on the concept of a raver morphing as he dances. Each one is a fresh hell of pure, adrenaline fueled twistedness guaranteed to raise your pulse and quease the gut. There is humor to be found in there, too, it’s just darker than a black hole. It helps if, immediately after watching this tremendous duo, you curl up in a fetal position and hum nursery rhymes for 30 minutes or so. If you can find several kittens to cuddle, that would work even better.