I was ecstatic when I found out a year ago that Quentin Dupieux (aka Mr. Oizo) was going to be making a film. His history as an electro artist and music video director from an era of bar none the greatest music videos, which at the time had stations to play on, opened up a window for him to plant a flag in the ground and place himself next to others like Spike Jonze and Michel Gondry. Appropriately, his first feature length film is weird. Not a pretentiously, cold shoulder weird, but a mysterious, hilarious kind of weird. I mean, what else can you expect when the entire synopsis of the film is only two words? “Killer tire.”
Well, it’s two words if you just want to sell someone on it. The devil is in the details, and the devil has magic powers so… Let’s say the magic’s in the details. These aren’t spoilers per se, but because it’s such a delightful turn of events you should encounter it yourself, I’ll act like it is anyways. SPOILER ALERT I GUESS. Yes, Rubber is about a tire that comes to life, has psychic powers, kills everything it meets and rolls on to the next victim. If that sounds like too little for a feature film, you are right. Rubber is also about its own audience. No, not you, you vain little twerp. In the film, there is an audience, one watching the film not unlike you. Not from a theatre though, but in this world Dupieux has created, a film’s audience actually stands nearby, holding voyeuristic binoculars and watching the events as they unfold from a safe distance. The cast of the ‘film’, some more conscious of their fate than others, desperately want to end this trite exercise and make attempts on the audiences’ lives, while pretending to give a crap about a killer tire. See, now isn’t that more interesting than two words? SPOILERS OVER.