My usual reaction to a Maddin feature. Amazingly original, with such stunningly unique visuals, a terrific sense of humor, playful structure and psychological drama. But he just kind of wears me out. This fatigue was mitigated somewhat in this case by a more straightforward narrative than usual. For the most part, I was greatly intrigued by this quirky melodrama loaded with Freudian twists. You gotta love a scene where incestuous confessions are discussed between two yawning participants.

I wanted to like this, my first foray into a wacky world of Maddin's. I simply couldn't. The appeal of his peculiar experiment started to grate almost instantly. Left is the monumentally terrible campiness. Intentional, of course - but to what end? Some will lap it up for its own sake. I, for one, found it neither rich nor amusing. I suppose being more proficient in the film language of the 1920s might help me "get it". Or watching some German mountain films. I damn well don't intend to, though.

Like the Quay Brothers, but good?

Careful! "You should never hold a baby's face near an open pin." Careful, careful!

Weirdest of the weird. The low budget is evident - so too, is the talent of Maddin.