Club Zero

QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM CANNES

The director of Little Joe (2019) is back with a similarly colourful and strange little film. Club Zero is an absurdist, deadpan comedy with a touch of sci-fi and some awkward social commentary. It is intentionally wacky and – precisely for that reason – delicious to watch. Preferably on an empty stomach.

Miss Novak (played by a hilarious robotic and self-righteous Mia Wasikowska) convinces a small group of students to embark on a “Conscious Eating” diet. They minimise the amount of food that they consume by endlessly staring at each bite before in insert it into their mouthes. The super-rich parents become increasingly despondent, but the students remain loyal to the eccentric teacher. Well, it isn’t just the teacher that’s unusual. Club Zero takes place in an undisclosed nation at an undisclosed time. The language is English, and most of the accents are British, however the architecture suggests a foreign country. Some of the topics (such as veganism) are current, one of the students communicates with his parents on a 21th century videoconferencing platform akin to Zoom, however the clothes, the furniture and the extravagantly plush colour-palette suggest the 1970s. Eerie, distant, irregular drumming and occasional humming provides the film with an extra layer of wackiness, detaching it even further from reality.

“Conscious Eating” eventually morphs “Club Zero”, a very exclusive society in which members don’t eat at all. That’s right. Miss Novak convinces her students that ingesting food is a lie forced upon us by the establishment. They could curtaill consumerism, confront capitalism, save themselves and the planet by simply refusing to ingest any food. Ever again. Just like a real freedom fighter!

The Austrian filmmaker had previously satirised resistance to the pharmaceutical industry (and science more broadly) by likening antidepressants to alien forces, in Little Joe. This time she takes aim at conspiracy theorists altogether, and the tedious argument that they are valiant warriors combating a deeply rooted untruth. Miss Novak insists that she knows the truth, and that everything we have ever been told (in this case about food) is fake. She offers no evidence whatsoever to support her claims. This will probably ring some bells: you have probably met a few smug conspiracists yourself.

This is a movie dotted with cringeworthy moments. The identically dressed students acting in unison is particularly weird, and their awkward silence combined with the dispassionate, wide-eyed expression on their face is guaranteed to elicit laughter. The problem is that this technique becomes a little monotonous after a while, and the film struggles to justify its duration of nearly two hours. Still, worth a viewing. You might want to invite a flat earther, a Covid denier, or some other conspiracist to join you. They might find the experience enlightening!

Club Zero has just premiered in the Official Competition of the 76th Cannes Film Festival. DMovies is live at the event unearthing the dirtiest movies exclusively for you.

Little Joe

A vertiginous shot circling over rows of plants in a high tech, white, laboratory nursery to the accompaniment of an eerily unearthly electronic score is quickly followed by a scientific explanation. Alice (Emily Beecham) and Chris (Ben Whishaw) have genetically engineered a plant which in return for being looked after, watered regularly and talked to emits a scent which will make its carer/owner happy.

Outside of work, single mum Alice confides in her psychologist (Lindsay Duncan) her worries that she doesn’t give her young son Joe (Kit Connor) enough of her time. We sense that Alice is a control freak concerned that her “handling the unpredictable” job may include elements she can’t manage. Then she crosses a line by bringing one of the happiness plants home for Joe to nurture, naming it Little Joe. In caring for the plant, he sniffs its scent. As he becomes more and more occupied with the plant’s welfare, he neglects other things, including his hitherto beloved mother.

When in the same nursery as the happiness plant specimens of another plant die out, Alice’s colleague Karl (David Wilmot) asks if Alice used unauthorised methods when breeding the plants. Karl’s assistant Bella (Kerry Fox) warns that since the plants are designed as sterile, Alice may be tampering with forces of nature beyond her control: plants like all living things will do anything to reproduce. Chris is startled by Bella’s dog Bello in the nursery and accidentally inhales some of the plant’s spores. Bello later starts behaving in a hostile manner towards Bella causing her to become convinced he is no longer the same dog.

One by one, the colleagues of the workaholic Alice also change. Subtly. Each of them will do anything to protect Little Joe – which rather confusingly becomes not only the name of the plant Alice brought home for her son but also the name for the whole flower breed as well. And indeed on occasion the label for her human son. Such sloppiness is indicative of the fact that the edginess of the first half hour doesn’t quite know where to go, leaving the film to fall back on the actors’ performances, the unsettling music score and some distinctive production and costume design. All of which are, admittedly, superb.

Beecham’s performance as the self-doubting. emotionally distant scientist plays in marked contrast to the actors portraying her colleagues and her son who, one by one, turn into distant relatives of the pod people from Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (Don Siegel, 1956). Instead of being physically replaced, Little Joe’s pod people are simply changed in their minds and thought processes.

In one uncharacteristically playful scene, the mother listens horrified to her son and his girlfriend telling her that they’ve been taken over by the plants, only for them to suddenly reveal that they’re having her on and that the whole thing was a joke. While most of the film isn’t quite that clever, it effectively plays out the pod people myth amongst unique visuals of spotless, high tech, clinical metal and glass interiors by people in white green-tinged lab coats to an unsettling, electronic score.

Little Joe is out in the UK on Friday, February 21st. On VoD on Monday, June 15th.