After over two decades of directing Dutch film and television, Tallulah Hazekamp Schwab makes her English language feature film debut with the surreal black comedy, Mr. K. Veteran eccentric Crispin Glover is perfect for the role of a traveling magician who is experiencing some existential career stagnation. On his way to a gig, he stops in an unfamiliar town, checking into a strange bucolic hotel. The next morning, he’s surprised and frustrated to learn that he cannot find the exit. None of the other inhabitants are much help. In fact, some seem downright determined to mislead him. Others insist that he must accept his new reality, as they have. Bit by bit, Mr. K uncovers the mystery of the hotel’s true nature that could be the answer to, not only his liberation, but life, the universe, and everything.
I won’t reveal too much of the plot because it’s best to experience the narrative along with Mr. K having no idea what is happening or about to happen. However, to give you a sense of the vibes, here are some films that sprang to mind while watching: Alice in Wonderland, Barton Fink, Snowpiercer, Time Bandits, Coraline, Delicatessen, and The Matrix. For a long time, Mr. K resists his absurd predicament as he tries to make sense of it. It’s not until he lets go of his drive to control his circumstances that he is able to move forward. This is also the best way to take in Schwab’s film. To walk away, as they say, you must leave something behind.
Schwab also wrote the script, which she deems her most personal work to date. She was inspired by her fascination with “doors and the idea that they conceal something unexpected.” Schwab wears her influences on her sleeve, as her title character evokes the Kafkaesque landscape that he must traverse. Growing up, she felt like she had trouble grasping the “rules” of society, because they seemed so dependent on where she was and who was imparting them to her. A principal conceit of the film is the idea that one person’s reality can be completely incomprehensible to someone else…
Effed by the Wind 