“Vulcanizadora” review: to probe the limpability and anxiety

The sentence of sardonic meme “Are men well?” Gets extremely fun but quietly devastating work in Joel Potrykus' vulcanizadora, about a pair of oppressed guys in a consecutive trip with concern in the woods near Lake Michigan. In her overview concentrated on a strange funny and funny friendship, she is almost fascinating without judgment because she hikes in a very dark place.

This does not mean that “vulcanizadora” has no point of view. Potrykus' cinematographic playground – forged in small -scale curiosities like “Buzzard” and “Relax” – is the stagnant air of failure surrounding a certain type of immature and waterproof guy for whom the richest challenges of life are levels of video and small pranks. Mel Brooks has contextualized our point of view on misfortune when he said: “The tragedy is when I cut my finger, the comedy is when you fall into an open sewer and you die.” But Potrykus, whose micro-apocalyptian work of Slouter has become as distinctive as anyone in the indie kingdom of DIY, seems determined to find a poetic space between these posts, where your snickers could be colored by a slight reluctance, and sometimes you will prevent yourself from preventing you from moving.

“Vulcanizadora” is a 10-year-old follow-up of “Buzzard”-because the word “sequel” seems almost too much materialistic mercenary for a Lo-Fi rate than this one. But knowing that this may not be necessary, because as humans in history have appeared since the green serenity of 16 mm cinematography by Adam J. Minnick, it takes long to understand who Marty, played by the collaborator of Potrykus for a long time, Joshua Burge, and Motorouth Derek (potrykus) are: inexperienced camps, Proter makes each other.

The details of their pact are not initially clear, but the journey seems to be tilted towards the junky pleasures of Derek: bottle rockets, martial arts, a jaeger with martial action of a canteen, porn magazines. Marty, meanwhile, with hollow and moving eyes to move away from their objective, seems haunted with guilt after a recent passage in prison for having set fire to a building. (The deterioration of marty's life of small crime was the loose story of “buzzard”, although it is best known for a long taking of it by eating spaghetti which could almost qualify as an art of performance of Dirtbag.)

Burge is a presence on the singular screen, like an unsuitable R. Crumb real, and it is almost touching how potrykus has faith in the clumsy majesty to stay on his face so that the sour marty despair lets us hear from wanting to laugh at him to feel sorry for his misery. But Potrykus, whose character was above all a punch bag in “Buzzard”, also gives himself a chance to make it a real two -gleffe when Derek's vibrant regrets end up going up to the surface – he has a 5 year old son, he knows that he is poorly suited to be a real father – and we see the lost man inside the arrested adolescent. Potrykus makes a psychologically revealing meal of each nervous interjection of Derek until they become animalic and ultimately painful.

Flush of emotion after having expressed part of this deep pain and perhaps trying to challenge a reality without return, Derek tries to convince his friend that he feels better to get everything out. But Marty is right there to let him know that tomorrow he will feel bad again. And it also seems real, as if it were Slap-You-Awake morality of this fable.

But then, on the sparkling shore of the lake, “Vulcanizadora” reveals its most true colors with a horrible and absurd turn of fate for these two, if not exactly unpredictable, launches a last act of eccentric and eccentric and malicious grace, if not the complicated links of friendship. The end is a descendant, okay, but you could also smile. So feel bad about it. Then chuckle. It is when you realize that Potrykus has you where he wants.