Cosmos

I can hardly say that I've seen all of Andrzej Zulawski's films, but I think even with a sample size of one it's safe to say the man's oeuvre represents the cinematic equivalent of Expert Mode in videogames. The likes of 'L'important c'est d'aimer' and 'Possession' are rich and sumptuous, bountiful feasts of both plot that's readily discernible and enticing, and artistic flourishes that are flummoxing, let alone exceptional performances and film-making. But if his other works are Expert Mode, where does that leave us with this, the filmmaker's last picture before his death, that seems to take the most far-flung and outrageous proclivities of his storytelling style to new extremes? To be perfectly honest, 'Cosmos' is simply beyond me. There's no doubt in my mind that this wonderfully well made, bearing acting, direction, editing, cinematography, and otherwise craftsmanship that are intense as they present, and seemingly precisely calculated. Everyone involved is to be commended for what they gave of themselves for this production. As to the writing? Well, I congratulate those viewers who are able to in any fashion pick up on what Zulawski was doing here.

To be clear, I don't know how much of 'Cosmos' as we see it purely reflects Witold Gombrowicz's novel, and how much stems from Zulawski's adapted screenplay. This, and the vague detection of some form of narrative, are the only facets of the writing about which I can claim any certainty. Terry Gilliam, Jean-Pierre Jeunet, and Alejandro Jodorowsky combined could not conjure characters, dialogue, or scene writing more weird, wild, exaggerated, cartoonish, disparate, and downright inscrutable. Amidst it all I see glimmers of something grander, the faint shadow of whatever vision that was intended for this tableau. Such wisps are outnumbered and overwhelmed on all sides by the towering babel that the movie otherwise represents, a perplexing assemblage of bizarrerie that's strung together like a surrealist daisy chain. Well and truly, I just don't know what to make of any of it.

It's well done, whatever "it" is. One can appreciate art without wholly grasping it. On the other hand, it would be appreciated far more if it weren't 100%, consciously impenetrable. Emphasizing the point, I can't tell if the line "He never knew how to finish his novels, nor their meaning" is a plainspoken admission, or a joking tease. Once more, I offer my sincere, wholehearted congratulations to viewers who watch 'Cosmos' and genuinely See it, and Understand. I'm mystified, and admiration of the fundamental labor that went into it only gets one so far.

Unique film that is not, surprisingly, difficult to watch but certainly impossible to follow in any coherent way. Based upon the absurdist writings of Witold Gombrowicz this is more a test and strain upon the actors than the viewer. It is not just that not very much makes sense in the traditional way but that even the very language is distorted and invented. At first it seems there is something wrong with the sound, the subtitling or your brain but gradually, because the acting is so strong and capable and the direction so unrelentingly assured, we have to simply accept everyone and their actions and words for what they are. Essentially this is at times gibberish but gradually, like in some crazy dreams certain believability envelops one into the whole madhouse before us. It helps that the film always looks good and that even the most seemingly stupid utterance is convincing. When the absurdist movement is seen in the context of the wider world as a political statement and more specifically here as a reaction to the stark grey lies of the Soviet Union, this colourful absurd creation from a Pole is like a flower in the desert. You will be glad to have seen this film even if it has you scratching your head for a while - if not the whole duration!

To my mind, while being quintessential Zulawski, thanks also to the film being in French with mostly native actors there are welcome homages to Jacques Rivette (Céline et Julie vont en bateau) and Éric Rohmer, maybe a dod of Resnais and Cocteau even (after all, Zulawski studied cinema in France). Despite the astonishing allure of the lush greenery (filmed in Portugal, with scant sunshine and plenty of wind off the Atlantic) we are force-fed with the antics and dialogues of a wide range of extreme characters who have nothing and everything in common: food, folly, and literature, perversions and obsessions, madness. I am grateful to the insightful comments of those reviewers who spoke less of themselves and more of the film itself, e.g., "the direction is unrelentingly assured." Indeed, a filmic taxonomy of dementia.

Just finished watching this rip-roaring beauty of a film. Crazy intensity throughout somehow quite relaxing too. Very funny at moments because it shows the underneath of a lot of our social interactions - the extended family greeting in each when they all arrive at the cottage by the sea, the "I am annoyed with you" way that Lucien attends to some minor maintenance work.

The spilled peas scene, the moss-ridden family home of Witold, the vomiting priest...yes it is very arty. But it's not pretentious in the least - it is just driven by a crazed zest for life in all its stressed and neurotic forms. Don't worry about following it, just put your feet up and enjoy.

In Andrzej Zulawski's film 'Cosmos', a pair of weird young men, one of them a writer, visit a boarding house full of even weirder characters; and after that, things just get weirder still. Some of the weirdness is apparently the story that the writer is imagining; but the boundary between reality and fantasy is loosely drawn, and the fact that scenes from the filming are shown over the credits but before the final "in movie" scene is at one with the deliberately incoherent feel of the piece as a whole. On one hand, the film is just daft, taking semi-random leaps wherever an opportunity presents itself; yet after a while it becomes oddly watchable, even if it doesn't make sense. I don't think you can call it a good film, or even an interesting one; but there's a beguiling quality to the craziness nonetheless.