On Friday nights, IndieWire After Dark takes a feature-length beat to honor fringe cinema in the streaming age.
First, the spoiler-free pitch for one editor’s midnight movie pick — something weird and wonderful from any age of film that deserves our memorializing.
Then, the spoiler-filled aftermath as experienced by the unwitting editor attacked by this week’s recommendation.
The Pitch: Deathly Afraid of Tits? I’ve Got Just the Movie for You
Not since “The Idol” has the city of Los Angeles been hit with something as overhyped as Hurricane Hilary — and the 5.1 magnitude earthquake that followed it. A week of hysterical doomsday prepping from a populace conditioned to expect climate perfection concluded in a tepid rainstorm that would be completely unremarkable in any other state. And it’s quite possible that the constant alert vibrations from our cell phones shook the city more than the actual earthquake did.
I could tell that some people were so invested in their personal “I’m gonna survive a hurricane, goddamnit!” narratives that they were almost disappointed when nothing happened. But as a fan of “Kuso,” I was just relieved to survive the weekend without getting into a single argument with a sentient orifice.
Flying Lotus’ nightmarish directorial debut is a surreal anthology of stories about Los Angeles residents adapting to life after a deadly earthquake, told through a series of TV sets showing depraved commercials. Think “The Last of Us” meets “Beau Is Afraid” meets “Family Guy” filtered through the lens of the most avant-garde thing you’ve ever seen on Adult Swim at 4 a.m. It’s a film that practically begs you to look away, bombarding its audience with images of every internal organ and bodily fluid under the sun until only the most hardcore midnight movie freaks remain. Those with the stomachs to sit at the cool kids’ table for 90 minutes are rewarded with an exploration of everything from post-apocalyptic abortion rights to the sexual prowess of talking skin growths.
The nauseating images famously caused several dozen audience members to walk out of the film’s Sundance premiere in 2017, but it’d be a shame to let shock value define the film’s legacy. “Kuso” marked the fully-formed arrival of a bold new cinematic voice (this man went on to direct the best segment of “V/H/S/99,” I tell you!) and flows with the same ambient coolness as his jazz records. Working under the alias “Steve,” the Flying Lotus lulls us into a trance so intense that we have no choice but to accept the rules of his insane world and go along for the ride. To paraphrase one interdimensional roommate’s meta-commentary on the film, “Eat ass, this is art.” —CZ
The Aftermath: Christopher Lloyd Definitely Isn’t In This…Right?
When a former “Workaholics” actor shows up to reprimand a kid for shitting his desk, you’d think you’d laugh. And I did laugh — at many other parts of “Kuso.” But to me, the appearance of Anders Holm in the “Smear” segment, playing a strict teacher with a cruel cackle and a cauliflower forehead growth, wasn’t funny. It was just another reminder that I was wildly underestimating the talent behind what I was watching — a realization that scared the shit out of me in the moment, and made “Kuso” a shockingly substantive watch in the end.
Sure, the involvement of a recognizable face doesn’t inherently make a project better. (Here’s looking at you, Brad Pitt’s “Cool World.”) But if you stick around for the “Kuso” credits, you’ll see special thanks given to Edgar Wright, Donald Glover, Eric Andre, and at least a dozen other singular voices in offbeat comedy and horror. It was these impressive endorsements and the notable cast that left me feverishly investigating whether Christopher Lloyd — or someone who just looks like Christopher Lloyd – had played the silent role of Nameless Man in Photo Frame/Nameless Man in Forest Anus, also for “Smear.”
The ”Back to the Future” legend isn’t credited, and it’s genuinely hard to tell if it’s Lloyd behind those distorted eyes. Considering the actor was pushing 80 when “Kuso” came out, not to mention the silent character’s main function is to be smeared with vomit and shit, I’m inclined to think it wasn’t him. That seemingly no one on the internet has wondered this before — Google it, you’ll get crickets — only furthers my suspicion I’m imagining things. Honestly, this “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?” photo comparison is my best argument, and it’s simply not enough evidence for me to bother Mr. Lloyd’s agent with an email.
Regardless of the truth, my A-list casting delusion — and the tiny belief I maintain that maybe, just maybe that really is Lloyd — speaks volumes to the puzzle-like qualities of Flying Lotus’ ingenious debut, and the satisfaction I got from “Kuso’s” endless font of nauseating surprises. This movie isn’t just disturbing nonsense. Although there is plenty of that; what with its practical buckets of puke, pus, blood, semen, and cockroach innards. (Seriously, considering I myself nearly became physically ill during the opening makeout scene, I’d say every Sundance walk-out this disasterpiece received in 2017 was understandable.) But dismissing “Kuso” wholesale as a gross-out epic seriously undersells its smarts and overarching value to fringe cinema.
The wrap-around story of the titular Missy (Iesha Coston) and Kenneth Kuso (Oumi Zumi) with Royal the Talking Boil is standard anthology fare; cummy neck blow job notwithstanding. But the precise co-writing of Flying Lotus, comedian Zack Fox, and “Salad Fingers” genius David Firth — quietly interconnecting the rest of this oozing, festering, horny hellscape — is so undeniably clever that it should make true genre fans endeavor through their disgust to satiate their curiosity about this oddly beautiful, ever-mutating, post-apocalyptic Los Angeles. Three bridging moments stood out to me upon first watch, though I’m shocked to say I’ll definitely be going back for more to make sense of it all.
First, the “Smear” segment did a brilliant job of evoking the feel and design of a video game before revealing Charlie (Shane Carpenter) was in one. Kudos to the cinematographer; one wide shot in particular uses forced perspective to evoke the “interact-able” intuition you encounter in countless platform adventure games, which tipped me off to the twist and made me question more and more what this father-eats-son cannibalism segment was really trying to say about broader pop culture. The prevalence of screens — a hallmark of Firth’s past work in particular — underscores the sense that media criticism is ultimately at the heart of what “Kuso” is trying to say.
Second, “Sock” does a killer job of physically connecting Angel (Mali Matsuda), the player of that video game, with both the apartment complex we know the Kuso lovers to be living in — and the terrifying labyrinth at the bottom of that liquifying hole where her so-called “baby” resides. (C’mon, Barbarian!) Although “Kuso” was created pre-pandemic, the sense that Angel is stuck in a shelter-in-place situation gone sideways is palpably painful and it’s her misery I found the most interesting. The cat-dog issue with her roomie (Pretty Ricki Fontaine)? Stupendous, fascinating, practically ripe for a spin-off!
And finally, there’s the “Mr. Quiggle” of it all. Tied together with the weed-smoking monster TV roommates/date rape-turned-abortion storyline starring musician The Buttress (if you haven’t seen this movie and are just reading this article, god bless you), this part of “Kuso” is easily my favorite. The gigantic chunks of animated transitions in the movie seemed like fluff to me before the therapy given to Manuel, the aforementioned dude afraid of tits (played by Fox). So the realization that a supremely lengthy, bizarre, animated, bouncy boobs sequence was the therapy dawned on me only as an edit snapped us back to that unspeakably strange examination room and the patient declared himself cured. (Also, they got Parliament-Funkadelic’s George Clinton to play a therapist with a big ol’ bug in his ass? What??) The shock of that reveal made me once again question the clues and meaning behind everything to come before it, from the catchy musical opening (“No one will save you!“) to the laugh-out-loud funny news carousel (“Porn stars strike for better wages and no one notices…”) to that waiting room guy’s “hot fucking pulsing fuck ball” of a monologue.
In summation, this movie whips, and I had no problem during Hurricane Hilary either. I did stay inside and binge-watch “Detroiters.” Comedy Central anything is a decent chaser for a midnight “Kuso” screening. I mean, I really couldn’t sleep with all my vaguely sweaty Christopher Lloyd research and picture frame theorizing. But, to quote a crusty, one-footed legend, “It’s a bad baby who runs off to hide.” —AF
Those brave enough to join in on the fun can stream “Kuso” on Shudder. IndieWire After Dark publishes midnight movie recommendations at 11:59 p.m. ET every Friday. Read more of our deranged suggestions…
