Weddings can be a slog to sit through when they’re not your own, but if the wedding in question is anything like the one featured in the off the wall black comedy Wild Tales, well then send me an invite! Damián Szifron’s Oscar-nominated film from Argentina will grab you by the throat and not let you out of its demented grasp for two hours. Feeling at times like an insane hybrid of Falling Down, Sightseers, Fight Club, and other notable films where violence and comedy are skillfully mixed, Wild Tales is concocted of six separate stories all focusing on the themes of revenge, fate, and anger, with sharp social commentary thrown in all around the edges.
The film opens with a perverse bit of airborne madness, and the following segments go on to feature a hit and run that’s treated like some sort of sick joke, a nighttime diner that becomes the scene of something truly nasty, a car towing company that will think twice about carelessly scooping up automobiles in the future, a road rage incident that goes above and beyond what can ever be expected, and the ultimate wedding from hell which is showcased in all its fucked up, psychosexual glory. This movie is unhinged; I like it when movies feel unhinged, and I loved every moment of this sick and twisted movie. I can’t tell you how many times I laughed out loud over what I was witnessing.
So many times this film took me by surprise, and while I could guess where some of it was headed, the end result was never able to be predicted in advance. Executive produced by Pedro Almodovar and starring a bevy of actors and actresses who all went for broke and never, ever looked back, Wild Tales manages to be over the top yet somehow believable given the extremely heightened style and scenario; after only one viewing, I knew I’d seen something very special and this film is even more enjoyable with repeat screenings. I’d actually recommend buying this flick sight unseen as I can almost guarantee that if you like it on any level, you’ll want to revisit it sooner than later.
Review by Nick Clement