Ruben Brandt, Collector, 2018.
Directed by Milorad Krstic
Featuring the voice talents of Iván Kamarás, Gabriella Hámori, Zalán Makranczi, Csaba Márton, Katalin Dombi, and Paul Bellantoni.
SYNOPSIS:
A psychotherapist suffers violent nightmares inspired by legendary works of art. Four of his patients, expert thieves, offer to steal the works, since he believes that once he owns them, the nightmares will disappear. He becomes a wanted criminal know as “The Collector”. Who will dare to catch him and his gang?
The opening moments of Ruben Brandt, Collector fittingly set the tone and pace, for better or worse; various styles of animation are on display ranging from 2-D characters frequently interacting with 3-D objects (vehicles especially stick out in this regard) wrapped up in inexpensive looking computer-generated backgrounds (the camera movements appeared to have come from very basic programming) all meant to be representative of the inherently artistic presentation. This isn’t just a movie about a psychotherapist coming into assistance from his own clients to steal rare paintings from top-of-the-line art institutes simply because they are violently invading his nightmares, it’s an animated one steeped in the designs of the very creators it is drawing inspiration from.
As all of these animation techniques collide, we bear witness to Mimi (voiced by Gabriella Hámori), a kleptomaniac capable of impressive Cirque du Soleil flexibility aiding her thievery, on the run following stealing a cherished fan from a museum, making swift and precise use of everything from her feet to James Bond style car chases throughout France (Ruben Brandt, Collector evokes classic cinema with its action sequences just as much as the aesthetics are reminiscent of famous artistic stylings). The segment runs over five minutes, and while the chase is elaborately constructed by writer and director Milorad Krstic (making his feature-length debut which has been selected by Hungary as their candidate for the Best Foreign Film Oscar, although it’s worth noting the voice acting is done entirely in English for now), it’s all style and references with little to no substance.
The aforementioned hallucinogenic sequences depicting paintings coming alive and brutally attacking Ruben (Iván Kamarás) are definitely clever in a stylistic manner that is far superior to anything else in the film, but the reasoning behind these occurrences boil down to scientific experiments that are not fleshed out and feel more like a reason for the plot to unfold rather than anything rooted in actual character development. Worse is that there is a police detective on the case given a mystery subplot regarding the identity of his father; such games would be fun to watch play out but here the narrative is so thin and obvious that the answer is a foregone conclusion from the moment the question is brought up. Gangsters all over the world are also interested in snatching the paintings for their own profits as the characters globetrot around the world from museum to museum, seemingly only serving the purpose of creating some action-oriented conflict for the climax and not much else.
There are those that will get a kick out of the experimental animation touches; characters often have multiple faces, idiosyncratic physical touches, bizarre looking elongated facial structures, and more but the images are less striking and just weird for the sake of being weird and indulging in a certain artistic style. I won’t go as far as saying that these creative decisions strip away whatever emotional investment there is, but they don’t improve the film’s distinction as much as the filmmakers likely intended. What can be said is that the chaotic scenes of violence that break out (more frequently than one might expect in a tightly constructed and well-paced 90-minute animated feature) contain some nasty memorable deaths, including one character crashing into a truck from mid-air as if he was a fly smashing up against a windshield. It’s just that everything around these scenes feels as if they don’t matter and don’t give the audience much of a reason to care.
Some of the symbolism is also hilariously on the nose; upon coming together Ruben instructs Mimi to draw whatever she wishes she could have most in the world. And while I’m not going to spoil what she does whip up, I will say that when her wishes are fully realized during the ending it makes for some cheesy and glaringly obvious explanatory dialogue. By now though, you probably understand that storytelling is nowhere near the strongest aspect of Ruben Brandt, Collector.
Honestly, the easiest way of letting someone know if Ruben Brandt, Collector is their cup of tea or not is to have them look at stills from the film. If you can get on the wavelength of the animation and all its strange amalgamations presented here, the predictable nature of the narrative might be something forgivable. For everyone else, it’s just wacky animated nonsense with the sensation that it’s trying too hard to be unique. Whether you’re a fan of animated features, foreign films, or cinema in general, there’s really nothing worth collecting here
Flickering Myth Rating – Film: ★ ★ / Movie: ★ ★
Robert Kojder is a member of the Chicago Film Critics Association and the Flickering Myth Reviews Editor. Check here for new reviews, friend me on Facebook, follow my Twitter or Letterboxd, check out my personal non-Flickering Myth affiliated Patreon, or email me at MetalGearSolid719@gmail.com
Originally published March 3, 2019. Updated November 29, 2019.
