Synopsis: A lonely gravedigger who stinks of corpses finally meets her dream man, but their whirlwind affair is cut short when he tragically drowns at sea. Grief-stricken, she goes to morbid lengths to resurrect him through madcap experiments.
Stars: Grace Glowicki, Ben Petrie, Leah Doz, Lowen Morrow
Director: Grace Glowicki
Rated: NR
Running Length: 84 minutes
Movie Review in Brief: Dead Lover is a grimy, committed punk-comedy riff on “Frankenstein” carried by Grace Glowicki’s fearless physical performance, but its relentless broadness and wandering script will test your patience before the payoff
Love Stinks (Literally)
I first caught wind of Dead Lover when it played TIFF’s Midnight Madness program last September, but wasn’t able to see it until recently. Having now spent 83 minutes in its company, I can confirm that the rumors are true that it’s the kind of film that sends half its audience running for the exits within the first ten minutes while the other half sits in filthy fascination.
The sophomore feature from writer-director-star Grace Glowicki, inspired loosely by Mary Shelley’s “Frankenstein,” follows a lonely Gravedigger so repulsive in smell that romance seems impossible. Then she meets an aristocratic dandy (Ben Petrie, BlackBerry) at his sister’s funeral, and he finds her stench intoxicating. Their whirlwind affair ends tragically when he drowns at sea. All that’s recovered is his severed finger, still wearing his engagement ring.
What she does with that finger, and how it sets off a host of oogy nastiness, is the sole premise and point of the whole 84-minute movie.
Four Actors, Forty Characters
There are only four actors in the entire film, and each plays multiple roles. Some are well disguised. Others not even a little. Nobody is trying to hide the seams, and that’s part of the charm. It speaks to Glowicki’s trust of her close friends that she kept things this insular. She throws herself fully into the physical comedy of the Gravedigger, creating a grey-gummed, grubby, cockney lass you can’t stop watching.
Petrie, her real-life partner and co-writer, played a nebbish softboy alongside her in the solid paranoid thriller Honey Bunch which premiered at TIFF. (With two films at TIFF, the couple was booked solid, even as they were about to welcome their first child in mere days) Here, he delivers something completely different: arch, deliberate, committed in a way that feels like a Renaissance Faire performer who refuses to break character.
Leah Doz and Lowen Morrow fill out the cast and do similarly strong work as various romantic entanglements for our Gravedigger. There is little that Glowicki won’t ask of her cast but she demonstrates a willingness to dive into the dirt and foul grime with them. The four share a camaraderie that existed before the cameras rolled, and it shows.
Ed Wood’s Punk Grandchild
Shot on 16mm Kodak film for less than $350,000 on two black box stages in Toronto, Dead Lover plays like it was shot on an abandoned Elvira set from the ’80s. There’s little effort to hide the soundstage floors or the redressed walls. That theatricality marries nicely with the over-the-top delivery. When someone falls, and we see the glossy studio floor, it takes us out of the moment, but it reminds us how seriously the actors are taking this silly show.
Cinematographer Rhayne Vermette, reportedly told by Glowicki to study the films of underground auteur and Hollywood Babylon author Kenneth Anger for reference, captures Becca Morrin’s sparse production design with vivid color and deep shadow. Courtney Mitchell’s costumes look like moths will fly out of them at any moment, while the makeup from Joseph Hinds and Samantha Breault is nicely goopy and gruesome. U.S. Girls (Meg Remy) provides an off-kilter score and a truckload of songs that strengthen the late-night, kiss-my-a** vibe.
YMMV, Heavy on the Y
This is not the easiest watch. The humor is broad and relentless, and the script by Glowicki and Petrie does lose direction at several points, resulting in some chaotic wrangling of the narrative to course correct. The performances can tip from charmingly hammy to genuinely grating. I was sad to have missed the recent L.A. screening presented in STINK-O-VISION. Actually…not really. Still, Glowicki glows throughout. Even when you resist the urge to turn it off because the whole production feels so deliberately hokey, sticking through the gruesome finale is worth it because she’s clearly someone to watch intensely.
If you loved Hundreds of Beavers, this occupies similar territory: a scrappy, handmade comedy that refuses to play by anyone’s rules. I’d suggest watching the trailer first. If it repulses you, trust your instincts. If it makes you curious, grab a drink and settle in. Dead Lover has a community-theatre soul and a punk-rock attitude, and that combination will either win you over or drive you out.
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