Surrealism on Screen

Imagine you are in a museum. The Persistence of Memory, painted by the surrealist Salvador Dali, is on the wall before you. You look and look, stepping closer to see details and stepping back to gain perspective. Your mind is spinning, searching for meaning. Your heart just feels happy seeing such a unique piece of art.

Later that day, a friend asked you what you had seen at the museum. Images from the Dali painting flash through your mind, but words fail you because you don’t know if they’ve ever seen it for themselves. If they haven’t, there’s not much to say beyond, “It’s the one with the melting clocks.”

That’s what it’s like seeing and then trying to describe director Matthew Rankini’s magical new movie, Universal Language. There’s so much to talk about, so much treasure to unpack. You need to find someone else who has watched it, hopefully someone who knows a lot about Persian and Canadian culture, especially the city of Winnipeg. You want someone who will share a secret smile with you whenever you say ‘beige.’

The press notes call Universal Language “a surreal comedy of misdirection.” That’s as good a start as any. It’s surreal and definitely funny. I’d argue with the ‘misdirection’ because it implies some sort of cheap trickery on the director’s part, like a jump scare in a horror movie. While there are plenty of surprises in the film, you always feel Rankin gently, but firmly, guiding you through the story so you get to see everything, moving the camera closer to show details and moving it back to gain perspective. 

So rather than reviewing Universal Language in a traditional way, the best I can do is encourage everyone to go see it—and, if possible, see it in a theater with an audience. Like the Dali painting, there is a vast difference between seeing it in a book and seeing it in person, as it were, on a museum wall. Ranking and cinematographer Isabelle Stachtenko create some dazzling images that have nothing to do with green screens or special effects. For them. It’s all about looking at the world of their film in a unique, slightly skewed way, from the stark architecture of a frigid parking lot to the comfy warmth of a Tim Hortons restaurant. It’s one of the few movies that deserves to be shown in IMAX, though that will probably never happen. As a side note, Rankin and Stachtenko deserve kudos for making the coldest movie you’ve ever seen. Just watch the tour group standing in a snowbank on the side of the freeway and try not to shiver. 

And don’t be afraid to take notes while watching Universal Language. As accessible as it is, there are moments in the movie that need to be earmarked for a delirious deep dive after the credits roll. For example, the top of my notepad had the word “lachrymologist” because that’s what one of the characters does for a living. Here’s what I found: “Lachrymology is basically “the study of crying.” The only sources we know of this “science” are the members of the heavy metal band, Tool. Tool claims that Lachrymology was actually thought of by Ronald P. Vincent in his book “A Joyfull Guide to Lachrymology,” However, there is no evidence of Ronald or his book ever existing…?” Not even The Brutalist is that layered. Or that much fun to explore.