Daaaaaalí!

Biopics are among the most common films being made these days. Some are great, some are decent, and others are more than a little conventional, following rote formats so meticulously that they can turn out shallow or dull. But, when it comes to telling the story of someone wholly unconventional, someone larger than life and the embodiment of surrealistic sensibilities, the tried and true simply won’t work. And that’s certainly the case with enigmatic artist Salvador Dalí, whose unusual paintings nearly always defied description and classification. He was also a shameless self-promoter with an ego the size of the planet and a capricious personality as eccentric as his creations. He often spoke about himself in the third person and spouted statements that required those skilled in the cryptic arts to decipher. So, with a subject like this, a formula biography simply would not work. Fortunately, that’s precisely the thinking that writer-director Quentin Dupieux employed in coming up with this outrageously funny, eminently bizarre offering about a one-of-a-kind individual. In many ways, the film is a cinematic experiment in storytelling, enlivening its narrative in a manner as surreal as one of Dalí’s works. It’s rarely grounded in the straightforward, taking on dream-like qualities with running jokes, repeated but altered sequences and recurring characters that intertwine with one another in unexpected, truly out-there ways. The picture loosely follows the efforts of an aspiring journalist (Anaïs Demoustier) to secure an interview with her subject but who is routinely met with unrealistic, unforeseen obstacles (nearly always whimsically implemented by Dalí himself) in her attempts to pull it off. And, as the movie unfolds, it becomes impossible to follow any sense of reason in trying to figure out what’s going on and where it might be headed (so don’t even try). Instead, just sit back and enjoy the absurdity of it all – the very same attitude that one needs to employ w...