Inspired in part by 1970s experimental filmmaker Nikos Nikolaidis and jumpstarted in earnest in 2009 by Yorgos Lanthimos with “Dogtooth,” and perhaps to a lesser extent Panos H. Koutras’ “A Woman’s Way,” the so-called Greek Weird Wave movement quickly spread like wildfire in the country. “Attenberg” soon followed in 2010, and the proliferating genre soon gave everyone in the country permission— maybe even actively encouraged all filmmakers—to fly their freak flag. And fly it they did, but of course, often remotely, unusually, and with deadpan, comedically inscrutable sensibilities nearly being a prerequisite.
Two decades later, the movement is still going strong and receives an extra dose of bizarro weirdness, body horror, and surreal eerie beauty in director Yannis Veslemes’ (“Norway”) odd, and yes, deadpan, po-faced meditation on grief in “She Loved Blossoms More.”
“Mom used to love horror movies,” one of three brothers trying to bring their long-gone mother back from the dead using a lo-fi analog time travel closet they’ve created says softly, wistfully to the others, referencing, “Exorcist II,” nodding to its colorful hysteria and bananas grotesqueries. Yep, it’s that kind of film, and it’s clearly borrowing some of its outlandishly grisly queues (not to mention some arty European ’70s giallo and horrorsploitation from the likes of Mario Bava and Jesús Franco).
Imaginative and claustrophobic, “She Loved Blossoms More” centers on three stoner, slacker-like, but inventive brothers (Panos Papadopoulos, Julio Giorgos Katsis, Aris Balis) living in a dour family mansion of dank squalor trying to reconfigure the time-travel machine they’re currently working on to bring back their dearly departed mom.
But the device’s various imperfections cause myriad horrors: a pig that returns as revolting melted mince meat, half alive, a chicken with its head cut off that still seems to thrive (and grow teeth from its neck), and later on, something even more horrendous when jealousy means a flirtatious paramour is thrown into the gruesome mix. “We beam little animals into alternate dimensions beyond the edges of space and time,” they explain matter-of-factly about their abnormal experimentations replete with Atari-like 1980s in-the-garage-like scrappy technology. Think a warped version of Amblin or Shane Carruth’s lo-fi, lo-budget, “Primer” sci-fi movie if it were more of a deliriously ghastly and darkly comedic acid trip.
Things become more fraught and tense because their overbearing and delusional father (Dominique Pinon, from Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro’s dark fantasy absurdities, yet another clue of the film’s eccentric visionary influences) gives them a deadline. They’re bringing Mom back before Christmas, and just a couple of days, or else.
Sandra Abuelghanam Sarafanova plays a coquette-ish minx who entrances the brothers and gets caught up in their horrific experiment to visually outlandish degrees. The film and this section are moody, atmospheric, and deeply unsettling, but super imaginative, at least.
Produced in part by Christos V. Konstantakopoulos (“The Lobster”), edited by Yorgos Mavropsaridis (“The Favorite,” “Poor Things”), and strikingly shot by cinematographer Christos Karamanis (“Chevalier”), Greek Weird Wave fingerprints are all over the bizarre movie. Still, Veslemes clearly takes things in a more surreal hellscape horror direction— shocking Mario Bava bathed-in-color vibrance by way of phantastic early David Cronenberg—that feels very singular and distinct.
Mind-bendingly perverse, profoundly strange but at least memorable—though a little monotone and too deadpan for its own good at times—“She Loved Blossoms More” is part dark comedy, part freakshow horror, and part plaintive and sad meditation on grief with freakish and deranged sci-fi flourishes.
Arguably stronger for its striking visuals and inventively hideous practical effects than its plot or actors—the droning intonation technique of the genre perhaps a little tedious—“She Loved Blossoms” is a little slow to gel at first with the brothers moping around their home, trying to solve their problem, but then “the space-time continuum is disrupted.” Things take on a comically phantasmagorical bad trip detour, which becomes disturbingly amusing and outrageously wild.
Decidedly low-budget and sparse, but seriously making the most of its crazy, gory effects and nightmarishly psychedelic rapture, one can only imagine what Veslemes could pull off with top-shelf actors and a tighter script, but he should 100% hold onto some of these inventive, creative collaborators, the DP, and editor in particular.
Grief evolves, or as one great man said, “Grief changes shape, but it never ends.” To that end, in “She Loved Blossoms More,” it mutates horribly, vomits, explodes, catches fire, goes on the fritz, and turns into a vivid hallucination that’s discerning enough to pause for moments of odd poetry and dolorous melancholy. Honestly, it’s all vibes and mood—further bolstered by Veslemes’ wonderfully uncanny and supernatural score, with its elements of peculiar synth-wave, ghostly cries, and abstract musique concrète. Enchanting and delirious—with some unconventional Guy Maddin-ish vibrations too— “She Loved Blossoms More” is so peculiar and sometimes atypically hilarious that it may only attract adventurous Capital C cinephiles, but the daring Veslemes probably wouldn’t want it any other way. At the very least, you can’t wait to see what this audacious filmmaker does next. [B]
