RUMOURS ★★★
(M) 104 minutes
Rumours’ creator, Canadian director Guy Maddin, has been cultivating his reputation for extreme wackiness since the 1980s. Based in Winnipeg, which he has fondly lampooned in a quasi-biographical mockumentary as the sleepiest town in Canada, and possibly the world, he’s concentrated mainly on short films. Their surrealistic tilts at anything and everything have made him a great favourite on the festival circuit. But the mainstream has eluded him – if he ever felt like plunging into it, which is doubtful.
Shovels at the ready, the leaders, including Cate Blanchet as German chancellor Hilda Ortmann, prepare to unleash some Neanderthal revenge.
Except for Isabella Rossellini, who’s joined him as an enthusiastic collaborator, he’s never cast big-name actors – until now. Rumours has a starry ensemble cast led by Cate Blanchett, Charles Dance and Alicia Vikander, all of whom have become gleefully infected with the Maddin brand of madness. It’s the kind of film where the ability to keep a straight face qualifies as consummate acting.
What’s more, Maddin joined up with two like-minded filmmaking brothers, Evan and Galen Johnson, a decade ago and the three share the directing credit on the film. Confusing? Absolutely. Yet, they recommend it as the kind of confusion that enhances the state of upheaval in which they like to work.
The story is set at a G7 conference held at a castle on the edge of a misty German forest looking as if it could house European folklore’s worst nightmares. And it doesn’t take long to prove itself.
Cate Blanchett slays as the German chancellor in Rumours.
While the score resonates with intimations of doom, the leaders pose for the media before their unflappable host – BIanchett’s Hilda Ortmann, the German chancellor – declares she has a treat for them. She then ushers them into the woods to view a newly unearthed Iron Age corpse so immaculately preserved in a mud bath, they can see that the body was buried with its severed penis tied around its neck.
After this appetiser, we go on to dinner in the castle’s forest gazebo, where things swiftly descend into chaos. The Canadian prime minister gets spectacularly drunk while the other leaders try to draft a communique dealing forcefully with a looming world crisis. What kind of crisis? We never find out because the waffle they produce never gets to grips with it.
