The Strange Color of Your Body's Tears (2013)

Surprisingly incoherent and boring

Such a frustrating disappointment

Let's be realistic.

It's easily one of the freshest, sharpest and most enjoyable films of this year.

Returning from a business trip to find his wife gone but their apartment locked from the inside, a middle aged man investigates matters himself when labeled as the prime suspect in this mystery thriller that is more offbeat than it sounds. The man's amateur sleuthing leads him to conversing with his some of his apartment complex neighbours for the first time, none of whom seem normal, and as the film progresses, it is revealed that apartment complex has labyrinthine hidden walls and passageways that may hold clues. Some have interpreted the film as metaphorical with the condominium representing a disturbed mind, but the film works fine as a straight mystery too. That said, it is deliberately paced and full of bizarre imagery, including kaleidoscopic shots and fancy edits galore. At times, the film feels showy, like a canvas for the filmmakers to experiment rather than tell a story, and some images (the girl giving out candy) seem utterly random. And yet, it is hard not to admire the finesse put into all the graphic (and non-graphic) match editing, like the protagonist drinking cut against a hypnotic wheel. There is also an amazing bit in which his face is spliced against a detective's in split screen, giving the initial appearance of one whole face. The film is quite an assault on the senses if nothing else - which seems only appropriate to reflect the stress and agony of a man searching for his wife while under police suspicion himself. The title, for what it's worth, seems to be a reference to gushing blood; what sort of blood in particular is only revealed at the end.

Yet another exercise in all-style-no-substance film-studies-friendly/paying-audience-hostile giallo "homage" from Forzani and Cattet. Oh for Pete's sake - come on guys! Amer was one thing, quite interesting at the time, but the value of that film has somehow been retroactively diminished by the release of its identikit successor. Replicating the surface details of the giallo style is easy peasy - anyone can do it - it's the Spaghetti Bolognese of filmmaking. But the point of the original gialli classics was that they were proper functioning movies that would have worked as exciting thrillers even without the stylistic flash. Neither Amer, nor TSCOYBT, have proper plots, and for me, failure to provide an adequate narrative element is an abdication of the filmmaker's primary responsibility. I hope, for Forzani and Cattet's sake, that they are not currently working on another EU-cash-lake-for-art-house-piffle funded giallo homage, because they will be risking losing their credibility forever after, which would be a shame, because I get the impression that they are extremely talented and visionary filmmakers.

I find myself a bit baffled that so many reviewers chalk this up to artistic nonsense. The best way to approach this film remains simple: this is a throwback to the trippy days of giallo film, with a very, very attentive approach to more than just blood, guts, and gore on the screen. Sure, the audience will easily be able to identify the simplest features from the genre in and of itself--the obsession with eyes, the black leather gloves, the obscene colors for effect--but this gem really includes so much more. This film makes you think. It challenges your preconceived notions of traditional, and let's call it what it is, boring storytelling; in fact, the story itself refuses to follow a linear path, which may cause those that refuse to step outside of their comfort zone a bit of anxiety--then again, that's wonderful, because it's nearly impossible to not feel anxious during this presentation. This film refuses to tiptoe on the wild side like so many others do/did/will continue to do with the thriller genre, and you really must go into this experience knowing you'll be back for more.I remember seeing the directors' entry into the ABCs of Death and found myself infatuated with the cinematography. This film only furthers my appreciation for their contribution to our craft. Pair this with the attention to sound, musically and via effects, and, well, you have The Strange Color of Your Body's Tears.Many of the scenes throughout the film require a second viewing; in fact, I found myself personally stopping the film on multiple occasions to watch given scenes over and over again. The use of color throughout, paired with the fantastic angles and lighting, really does bring on back to the days when Argento reigned supreme. That being said, and the reason this cannot be a full-on 10/10, simply boils down to the directors doing a bit too much in such a short span of time, but I just so happen to enjoy the obscene imagery. I've already recommended this film to practically everyone that I know, and I genuinely suggest you give this one a shot. Any film that I feel Kubrick would even wonder what's going on is solid in my book. Grab a glass of wine, maybe two, after you've seen the opening 10 minutes, and just enjoy yourself. This is what true film is all about. Some will chalk this up to the artsy nonsense that they personally do not enjoy, but I can and continually will stand by this film for breaking from the traditional mold and reinventing the thriller genre in my eyes. The colors, folks... The colors...

Barfing out references in place of a coherent screenplay, the directors of this kitsch turd appear to have been trying to have a good time copycatting Lynch, Argento and Phantom of the Paradise, while masturbating on Alfons Maria Mucha's art, more than trying to make it worth the spectator's while.The untalented and hideous actors, all lookalikes, and looking like the improbable offsprings of Klaus Kinski and Dominique Pinon, minus the talent, just show up on the screen doing various things that make absolutely no sense whatsoever, while atrocious camera-work, hard to bear colour schemes and an extremely unpleasant soundtrack attack the viewer in a most unpleasant way. No beauty, no poetry, if not for a couple of scenes that are nicely thought out, but that do not serve an actual cinematographic purpose in the film, more of an onanist visual act.More than leeching off other director's trails, it would be a good thing for the two directors to go to a screenplay class, during which I'm sure one of the topics to come up would be "how to keep the viewer interested". If they don't go to one soon, they could remain amateurs for the rest of their careers but at this point, I'm not sure they have much left to say anyways because they already had so little to begin with.Let's just hope that they will keep to short films: in the grind-house scene, their insufferable aesthetics would be praised if they keep it short, as in title sequences or collective movies.In short, the lesson here is that one does not aim at directing a "cult" movie, it's not a genre, it's the viewers who decide. "Cult" films were usually trying to be interesting or narrative before they were trying to be "cult" films, and that's something we'll hope the directors understand soon.