Cross-linked, stitches rough tightened, flaps of flesh lumps members form recognizable, but deformed to the extreme. Macabre Cadaver. The neomir of the film consists of an alternation of super-large details and extensive lacunae. The road movie canon is mixed with the flow of tarantino-dialogues, the Rodrigues monochrome is multiplied by the mystical lynch wigwamatics, the Villeneuve ascetic and dense action is fueled by troma-aesthetics. It's much more everywhere, everything and at once than "Everything Everywhere All At Once" itself, only without the tense teenage maxi-hysterical. The overall picture is to be collected from many multidirectional elements.
This is the path and destiny of the new body. A new body of cinema. Fixing the current state. And an echo of the past at the same time. Unintentional, natural citation, which was the result of the crisis of overproduction. It’s as if there are only two forms left: the tzvetnik-o-esque-like freestyle or the spiral vortex of replication of some fairly conventional tradition. The third form is so rare that it is not a systemic solution to the crisis in which cinema lives. Even relative provincialism and parochialism in the most positive and productive sense of these phenomena do not save: with all their freshness, naivety, sincerity, liveliness of intentions and views.
Another new body stretches in the background: an immense carcass of digital reality flows into the frame space. Pavilion tapes shot under a chromatic key on a monochromatic background have long become everyday, but "Novum Corpus" opens the next, deeper level of their existence. The false mask of the futile attempt at photorealistic imitation of the physical world is thwarted, and in its place we find the absolutely necessary image totality for the survival of the entire filmic. Torn edges, pixel tremor, smooth animation, ddd objects, masking, noise, electronic sweat, echo of information vibration.
The sum of all the elements of Novum Corpus leaves no chance of defeat. The methodical, consistent courage of a fragmented narrative with a patchwork quilt wraps you in bodies in an incomprehensible image of a living corpse. You find new meat on your bones, open wounds heal quickly. So Leach became Sweet P, an innocent child.