The 90s and 2000s were wild times in art-house cinema. These little idiosyncratic and absurd European films that didn't make much sense plot-wise, but had elaborate set designs and filled with surrealist whimsy, were dime a dozen, and you were glad they existed and available through Netflix DVD services (R.I.P.) Two decades later, with plot driven superhero movies, taut policier thrillers, 3D animations dominate the cinemas. Then Mr. K comes along, starring the king of oddity, Crispin Glover, directed by Norwegian born, Dutch filmmaker Tallulah Schwab. The film, referencing Kafka with his protagonist Joseph K from The Trial, indeed showcases a Kafkaeque labyrinth, where our protagonist can't escape from. With a great production design (Maarten Piersma and Manolito Glas) and filled with eccentric characters, harkening back to good old days of art-house nonsense filmmaking, Mr. K is a breath of fresh air.
Traveling Magician, Mr. K (Glover), is first seen doing tricks in front of uninterested audiences. The trick, suspending the globes of the solar system in the air, doesn't get any responses. This beginning reminds me of the mysterious and whimsical way Bela Tarr's Werkmeister Harmonies starts, where the village idiot explains how a solar eclipse works to a bunch of drunkards, delving into philosophical comedy to set the tone. “Every being is a universe within themselves, floating about in eternal darkness.” K narrates, alluding to the dream logic conclusion of the film.
The self contained universe in this film is an opulent but aging hotel that K checks into. After dealing with a glass eyed grumpy matron, and witnessing a man under his bed and a cleaning woman in his closet, hurriedly scampering out of his room, K goes to uneasy sleep, expecting to check out the following day.
As K wakes and gets ready to go, he finds himself marooned in the decaying hotel. Endless corridors lead him in circles and K can't seem to locate the exit. Someone scribbled "LIBERATOR" on the wall of the corridor. Chased by a marching brass band that seemingly materialized from the walls, and his bag stolen by feral children, K ends up in the opulent stuffed room of two old sisters (Dearbhla Molloy and Fionnula Flanagan) who are kind but can't seem to direct him to the exit.
He is then pushed into the hotel's busy kitchen, taken in as one of the kitchen staff. He is on an egg sorting line. And he meets fellow egg sorting worker Anton (Jan Gunnar Røise), whose ambition is to be promoted as a whiskerer, and who doesn't seem to have ever been outside the hotel. "We have everything we need here." He tells K. For whatever reason, the head chef (Bjørn Sundquist), takes a shine to our protagonist, as if he is the chosen one sent by some higher power, like a man in some secret prophecy. Without trying, K is promoted to the whiskerer's line, much to the chagrin of Anton. The kitchen staff are party animals it turns out. So they party after hours and sleep on piles of other workers. But K has to make his meeting with a client and needs to get out of the hotel.
K is awakened by the noise from the peeling wall. And he finds the hotel is physically shrinking. And there are some sinewy roots growing inside the walls. He has to warn the residents of the hotel! Is K the liberator?
Thick and dark green interior wall papers, the endless corridors and secret compartments/doors and cramped interior are as much the characters as well as the hotel's eclectic inhabitants. It might annoy you that there's no coherent plot in Mr. K. You will need to surrender your logically wired mind to embrace the film full of absurd humor and surrealist whimsy. Glover, who cultivated a unique persona over the decades playing weirdos and outcasts, fits right in as Mr. K in the world with its own self-contained hierarchy and rules. Part Jeaunette & Caro (Delicatessen), part Roy Andersson (Songs from the Second Floor), part Gordon & Abel (Iceberg), and part Jens Lien (Bothersome Man), Mr. K harkens back to the wry humor and wild imagination that was signature element in art-house cinema of the 90s and early 2000s.
You might be disappointed with the unresolved ending, but Mr. K is undoubtedly a unique film among mountains of narrative driven cinemascape of today. If you want to take a mental break from complicated and intricate plotting, and want to give in to the absurdities of an European art flick, Mr. K will be a highly rewarding movie going experience.
Mr. K plays in New York and will open in theaters in Los Angeles, 10/21.
