Sight&Sound - 04.2020

REVIEWS

April 2019 | Sight&Sound | 71

Reviewed by Lisa Mullen
John Turturro’s personal project, which he
wrote, directed and stars in, is ill-advised on so
many levels that it might be kindest to consider
it some kind of satirical meta-narrative about
the dangers of taking yourself too seriously.
Turturro’s memorably creepy creation Jesus
Quintana made a neat accent-point in the rowdy
tangle of amorality that was the Coen brother’s
The Big Lebowski (1998), but the idea that such a
flimsy character – more a collection of seedy tics,
really – could or should be spun into a whole
film fatally misses the point of quick-and-dirty
caricature. Worse still, Turturro staples this
averagely dumb idea on to one that’s objectively
terrible: a reboot of Bertrand Blier’s so-called cult
film Les Valseuses, which is now largely forgotten,
but was described at the time by the critic Roger
Ebert as “the most misogynistic movie I can
remember; its hatred of women is palpable
and embarrassing.” And that was in 1974.
The Jesus Rolls may excise the more overt
rapiness of its source material, but it still packs
a nasty punch for all its whimsical stylings
and jaunty, mariachi soundtrack, concerning
itself almost entirely with the idea that its
male characters should control and police
the sexuality of women. Somehow, Susan
Sarandon, Audrey Tautou and Sônia Braga –
never mind Christopher Walken, John Hamm
and Bobby Cannavale – were persuaded to
join the cast and become accessories to this
rubbish. What were they thinking? What was
anyone thinking? How did this get made?

The Jesus Rolls
USA 2017
Director: John Turturro
Certificate 15 85m 14s

Newly released from jail, Jesus Quintana and his

friends Petey and Marie embark on a crime spree

during which they also explore their sexual needs

and fantasies. Along the way they meet and try

to help a woman named Jean, but fail to prevent

her suicide, and later befriend her son Jack. The

film ends when they crash their car: they are

last seen hitchhiking at the side of the road.

Produced by

Sidney Kimmel

John Penotti

Fernando Sulichin

Paul-Dominique

Vacharasinthu

Robert Salerno

Written for the

Screen by

John Turturro

Based on the book

Les Valseuses by

Bertrand Blier and

the screenplay

by Bertrand Blier,

Philippe Dumarçay

Director of

Photography

Frederick Elmes

Editor

Simona Paggi

Production

Designer

Lester Cohen

Original Music

Emilie Simon

Sound Mixer

Ken Ishii

Costume Designer

Donna Zakowska

©GP Partners, LLC

Production

Companies

Sidney Kimmel

Entertainment, New

Element Media and

Tribus Film present

a Sidney Kimmel

Entertainment,

New Element

Media and Tribus

Film production

Executive

Producers

Bruce Toll

Michael Lewis

Maximilien Arvelaiz

Robert Wilson

Lawrence Kopeikin

Cast

John Turturro

Jesus Quintana

Bobby Cannavale

Petey

Audrey Tautou

Marie

Christopher Walken

warden

John Hamm

Paul Dominique,

hairdresser

Sonia Braga

mother

Gloria Reuben

lady owner

J.B. Smoove

the mechanic

Pete Davidson

Jack

Michael Badalucco

Security Officer

Barley

Nicolas Reyes

Tonino Baliardo

themselves, of

The Gypsy Kings

Susan Sarandon

Jean

In Colour

[1.78:1]

Distributor

Blue Finch Film

Releasing

Credits and Synopsis

Reviewed by Philip Kemp

Johannes Nyholm’s cruelly ludic second

feature, which takes its title from the refrain

of ‘Our Rooster’s Dead’, a Swedish nursery

rhyme (a jaunty ditty that recurs throughout),

appropriates the often used template of

Groundhog Day (1993) and stirs in elements

of The Babadook (2014), Midsommar (2019)

and a soupçon of David Lynch. Which isn’t to

damn it as unoriginal. There’s enough ruthless

ingenuity on display here to keep us guessing,

even if the overall trajectory can be foreseen.

The film’s most bizarre element is the

grotesque trio who launch repeated time-looped

attacks on Tobias (Leif Edlund) and Elin (Ylva

Gallon), a hapless couple still grief-stricken

over the loss of their daughter Maja three years

before and now making a camping trip to the

woods in a desperate attempt to shore up their

fracturing relationship. The three attackers,

who seem to emanate from some infernal circus

sideshow, are Mog (Danish pop singer Peter

Belli), spruce, plump and sadistically chortling

in his white three-piece suit and straw boater;

Sampo (Morad Baloo Khatchadorian), a brutal,

bearded giant with a dead dog in his arms; and

pale, pistol-toting Cherry (Brandy Litmanen),

with her long lank hair and a pit bull on a chain.

This trio first show up in a brief pre-credit

sequence, then again in cartoons on the old-

fashioned music box that Tobias and Elin buy

Maja for her birthday (which, of course, plays

‘Our Rooster’s Dead’). And in the final sequence

it seems that it was Tobias and Elin who

accidentally killed Sampo’s dog – more time-

juggling. After each murder spree, the camera

pulls up and away to a God’s-eye angle, isolating

ghouls and victims in their woodland clearing as

if in an amphitheatre. At intervals we’re treated

to primitive shadow-puppet displays, featuring

a cockerel shot by rabbit archers – reminding

us that when we first meet the ill-fated family,

they’re wearing crude bunny-makeup.

Altogether, animal imagery abounds:

each farcical slaughterfest is prefaced by the

apparition of a white cat stalking haughtily

off into the forest. As so often in horror

movies (from 1934’s The Black Cat to 1983’s

Cujo and beyond), uncanny animals stand in

for human angsts. But Koko-di Koko-da doesn’t

really need to be rationalised. Nyholm is out

to unsettle us with a mix of twisted humour,

encroaching grief and surreal violence –

and for the most part, he succeeds.

Koko-di Koko-da

Director: Johannes Nyholm

Certificate 18 85m 29s

Swedish couple Tobias and Elin attend a summer

festivity with their daughter Maja on the eve of her

eighth birthday. The next morning, the girl is dead from

food poisoning. Three years later, their relationship

disintegrating, Tobias and Elin go on a camping trip

in the woods. Early one morning, Elin is set upon by a

carnivalesque trio: Mog, a tubby man in a white suit;

Sampo, a bearded giant; and Cherry, a gaunt young

woman. Having disposed of Elin, they attack Tobias.

The action reverts to the previous evening, as the

couple erect their tent. The next morning they’re again

assaulted and killed by the baleful trio. This recurs

on several occasions, with variations. Eventually, Elin

awakes amid snow to find Tobias gone. She follows

a white cat to an isolated house, where she sees a

shadow-puppet show involving rabbits and a cockerel.

On the final repeated morning, the couple make a fast

getaway and en route run down the dog Sampo was

carrying. Their car goes off the road. They embrace.

Produced by

Johannes Nyholm

Scriptwriter

Johannes Nyholm

Directors of

Photography

Johan Lundborg

Tobias Höiem-Flyckt

Editor

Johannes Nyholm

Production Designer

Pia Aleborg

Music

Simon Ohlsson

Olof Cornéer

Supervising

Sound Editor

Gustaf Berger

Costume Designer

Gabriella Lundberg

Production

Companies

Johannes Nyholm

Produktion

In co-production

with Beofilm

Supported by Film

i Väst, The Swedish

Film Institute,

Swedish Television

and Den Vestdanske

Filmpulje

Executive Producer

Peter Hyldahl

Cast

Leif Edlund

Johansson

Tobias

Ylva Gallon

Elin

Peter Belli

Mog

Morad

Khatchadorian

Sampo

Brandy Litmanen

Cherry

Katarina Jakobson

In Colour

Subtitles

Distributor

Picturehouse

Entertainment

Unhappy campers: Leif Edlund Johansson

Credits and Synopsis