This film was screened at the 2011 Ottawa International Animation Festival)
When do symbols cease to have meaning in art, and simply become symbolic of . . . you know, symbolism?
Let's attack this another way: when an artist's language becomes indecipherable, do we the audience twiddle our toes with embarrassment and admit that perhaps we are dumber than a bag o' hammers? Or can we happily reach for the rotten tomatoes and proclaim the Emperor ain't wearing no clothes?
Creators will argue that any failure to communicate is purely the fault of the ignorant masses who can't appreciate said artist's genius. Audiences naturally respond that whoever pays the piper calls the tune, so if your message isn't getting through, try something else!
This leads me to Mati Kütt's 45-minute movie Taevalaul (Sky Song), an abstract exercise in highly personal puppetry . . . or a highly personal exercise in abstract puppetry - I can't decide. While this film is highly unusual in Estonian cinema for actually possessing a vaguely coherent plot - Estonian cinema has struck terror and confusion into the hearts of OIAF filmgoers since time immemorial - Kütt has crammed this film with so much personal imagery culled from his collective unconscious (oops, wrong psychologist - more on that later) that moviegoers will be left wondering what the **** this guy's trying to say.
OU Nukufilm, Joonis Film Presents Taevalaul (Sky Song), Directed by Mati Kütt
Here's the plot, as near as I can figure: in a steampunk world ruled by a Sigmund Freud-esque dictator, a lowly postman must find a way to deliver to the Moon, a communiqué from all humanity. Said message being a pattern of dashes created by a pair of idiots, one who resembles Salvador Dali. Given the presence of Herr Freud, don't be surprised to learn that everything is a sexual image, especially cigar smoke, and (with apologies to René Magritte) this is not a pipe.
What else did I gather from this journey through Kütt's Id? Modern life is a gray, murky, masochistic exercise in perversity or just plain perversion (a point already covered quite admirably in Terry Gilliam's Brazil, but never mind). Sigmund Freud is your master and will release you from the prison of your mother's womb. Oh yes, and Alfred Hitchcock is the Man in the Moon.
Unfortunately, all this insight comes at the expense of pacing, coherency or even the sense that Kütt has something important he wishes to say. Even the aliens' message of peace, love and cosmic whatnot at the end is so vague as to inspire forehead slaps in unsuspecting moviegoers.
Taevalaul (Sky Song) is a TMI From Mati Kütt's Subconscious
This movie may be a needless obtuse romp through abstract confusion, but at least it's short. So kindly adjust your dress before leaving, you can't rollerskate in a buffalo herd and yes, I do like pizza.
Taevalaul (Sky Song) gets a 2/5.
Dominic von Riedemann - Dominic is the Animated Film Feature Writer, and winner of 11 Suite 101 Editors' Choice Awards.
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