Long strange trip

Kirill Serebrennikov’s hallucinatory journey through virus-ridden post-Soviet Russia – complete with aliens, demonic librarians and singing dentures – is an exhilaratingly weird trip if you can handle it

Petrov’s Flu

Dir Kirill Serebrennikov, Russia 2021

On UK release

As the title of Petrov’s Flu suggests, the narrative concerns titular character having the flu – but what lies in store for the viewer is much less literal, as Kirill Serebrennikov’s latest work is a dizzying and bizarre viewing experience quite unlike any other.

With Petrov’s condition worsening rapidly as he tries to make his way home to his family, his grasp on reality quickly starts to slip, resulting in the audience being taken on a lengthy trip through a number of scenarios involving him interacting with a wide array of characters from his present and past. These initially seem random, but are eventually shown to tie together through the intricate loops woven by Petrov’s fevered brain. While similar approaches in terms of both mixing fantasy and reality, as well as using anthological structures that inevitably intersect into an overarching narrative, are a silver screen staple, rarely are they done in such a fluid manner as Serebrennikov manages here.

As you are drawn in by the performances and narrative, before you know it the film has taken a completely unpredictable and unlikely turn that you never saw coming, and you wonder how it so effortlessly managed to turn something mundane into something bizarre without the tonal and stylistic shift required being jarring.

And therein lies the beauty of the trip that is Petrov’s Flu; while some elements are clearly fantasies or memories seen through the character’s unreliable mind’s eye, the way the film seamlessly creates mundane situations that quickly and effortlessly escalate to shocking, humorous or purposefully nonsensical absurdity is an impressive display of cinematic craftsmanship. As reality and fantasy blur, the cinematography also snakes its way through one scene to the next in lengthy, swooping takes that further establish just how unpredictable and yet utterly intertwined the narrative is; we are seeing through the eyes of someone hallucinating thanks to a particularly bad case of flu and some very poor medication choices.

As unusual and genuinely original as Petrov’s Flu is, it is also an acquired taste and, as such, the film’s duration might present a bit of a struggle for some. At two hours and 25 minutes, the delirious nature of the piece can begin to wear thin after a while, and the sense of an overarching coherence can feel lacking at times, with some narrative turns seeming to be dead ends.

Petrov’s Flu offers a viewing experience that is difficult to describe; just as the dizzying cocktail of Petrov’s mental travels between reality, fantasy and memories constitutes a deeply personal journey – one reflecting Serebrennikov’s wish to make his most personal film yet – it’s inevitable that audience responses will be just as subjective and personal. However, if you’re in the market for a truly original story told with noteworthy cinematic craftsmanship, it hardly gets better, or more original, than this. Leyla Mikkelsen ★★★★ ★

Laguna Ave.

Dir David Buchanan, USA 2021 Streaming on Arrow Digital

A bizarre mash-up of several genres, Laguna Ave. is a microbudget indie flick which earns points for its ambition and febrile imagination, but loses them for just about everything else.

Starting off as a classically annoying mumblecore effort, the film introduces us to some hugely irritating characters who all live in the same apartment block. Foremost among these are Russell (Russell Steinberg) and his partner Rita (Stephanie Brait), a mismatched couple for the ages. She’s a sensible, focused, and diligent woman with a decent career; he’s an overweight, entitled slacker who’s just been fired for napping at work. In a precredits sequence we see Russell return to his erstwhile workplace at night and take a dump on his old desk – it’s that sort of film.

There’s Pierre (Dan Crane), an aspiring film-maker who does little more than play around with his new drone; there’s Karine (Felixe De Becker), his randy teenage sister; and, perhaps most interestingly, there are new tenants Gary (James Markham Hall Jr) and his cross-dressing partner Charlie (Sheridan Ward). So far so what, I hear you shout. Don’t worry, I was shouting it too at this point. Okay, it’s clearly a spoof of other indie films where would-be hipsters sit around on the steps in front of their building and shoot the breeze, but while spoofing them it’s also replicating them.

The plot thickens thereafter as Russell gets increasingly paranoid about Rita having an affair and, alarmingly, about what Gary is doing downstairs making loud noise all night and dumping bin bags in his car boot. I won’t elaborate further because at this point the plot, such as it is, is the only thing driving the film forwards.

There really isn’t anything in Laguna Ave. that B-movie bad taste enthusiasts won’t have seen before. A movie that has been cited a lot in reference to this one is Shinya Tsukamoto’s body horror classic Tetsuo: The Iron Man, and while it’s true that director Buchanan’s film does have a little bit of that about it, the effect is incidental rather than central. Buchanan borrows more, in my opinion, from Alex Cox’s 1984 punk classic Repo Man,

which itself borrowed heavily from other films, notably Robert Aldrich’s sci-fi noir Kiss Me Deadly

from 1955.

Unfortunately, Laguna Ave.

isn’t anywhere near as good as any of the films it borrows from. Daniel King ★★ ★★★

The dizzying cocktail of Petrov’s mental travels is a personal journey