Music video directors Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert probably didn’t panic when a continuous stream of audience members bolted for the exit at the Sundance premiere of Swiss Army Man. From a pre-credits opening sequence that sees Paul Dano hop aboard Daniel Radcliffe (who just happens to be a dead farting corpse/human jet-ski) to traverse the ocean, Swiss Army Man not only welcomes derision – it gleefully thrives on it.
As the Guardian’s Jordan Hoffman noted in his review out of the festival, Swiss Army Man only grows progressively “weirder” as it glides along.
After Dano’s lovelorn Hank happens upon Radcliffe’s corpse on an island following a failed suicide attempt and rides his new discovery to nearby land, Hank is soon overjoyed to learn that his companion (he names him Manny) is semi-alive – like a zombie, just much friendlier and more useful. Even better: Manny can act as a human swiss army knife of sorts (get it?).
In a whimsical montage, scored to oddly sung original music by Manchester Orchestra members Andy Hull and Robert McDowell, Manny shows off his bag of tricks to an ecstatic Hank: he can store seemingly infinite amounts of water in his body, shoot projectile weapons out of his mouth to kill prey, and use his erect penis as a compass to direct them to civilization.
It’s at this point that viewers will probably divide into two camps. Either you buckle up for the zany ride, or you check out, numbed by the gas and dick jokes. Watching Radcliffe’s bowels go completely berserk is, of course, not to everyone’s liking. But under all the bellowing is a visual and aural wonder that’s impossible to dismiss as purely puerile.
Kwan and Scheinert, best known for helming the surreal music video to DJ Snake and Lil Jon’s 2014 dance hit Turn Down for What, are magicians at conjuring arresting images that both repulse and awe. A shot of Manny fart-propelling Hank high above the trees is downright dreamlike in execution.
The performances match their efforts. Dano, his childlike face masked by a gnarly beard for most of the film, commits to Hank’s desperate situation with the type of no-holds-barred abandon the actor is known for. Radcliffe proves to be Dano’s ideal foil, remaining strictly reactive, while investing Manny with an endearing sense of curiosity.
When their relationship takes on a romantic nature, the two don’t make light of the plot development – they commit to it wholeheartedly. The effect is ultimately beguiling, and feels altogether foreign in today’s comedy landscape, when gay undertones are usually played for laughs.
Dano and Radcliffe’s chemistry, coupled with Kwan and Scheinert’s gonzo vision and an unpredictable story that’s commendably vague, makes Swiss Army Man one of the more brazen and original comedies to come along in years. (Seth Rogen’s Sausage Party is soon set to join those ranks, but that doesn’t open until next month.)
During a summer when “sequelitis” seems to have taken hold of audiences, the need for Swiss Army Man in the marketplace is paramount. Its existence proves that singularly strange films can still get made. Hopefully it finds an audience.
