Short Review: 'Rubber' (2010)

According to Wikipedia (a quantifiable course, I know), the word ‘reason’ is defined as “the capacity human beings have to make sense of things, to establish and verify facts, and to change or justify practices, institutions and beliefs”. In the context of contemporary cinema, the validation of both the spoken word and/or resounding action is generally given a reason for being, both to move the story along and to make its existence easily digestible to an audience. In other words, most moviegoers like to be able to make sense of things, identify motivation…rationalize and reason.

But what if a movie came along that possessed no raison d'etre? What if a filmmaker produced an 82-minute opus that not only disregarded obvious purpose but in fact prided itself on its complete lack logical grounds? You may ask yourself, “well what would be the point of that?” however such an inquiry would be like looking directly into a mirror and wondering why it displays a reflection of oneself. It just does. Hailing from France, Rubber is a delightfully demented, defiant black comedy dedicated to those of us who have a tenancy to ask one too many questions and never end up being satisfied with the results, even if it means dismissing a film altogether.

Somewhere deep in the American desert, a discarded tire (affectionately named Robert) is inexplicably brought to life and sets off on an adventure, rolling across the barren landscape and exploring the sights therein. In his travels he soon discovers he has the ability (through some kind of psychokinetic power) to make objects – and people – explode and begins entertaining his newfound trick on a rather frequent basis. Robert’s exploits are also narrated by a horde of nameless onlookers gathered from afar, keeping watch through binoculars and occasionally pitching in their two cents on the absurdity unfolding before their eyes.

So what is Rubber exactly? An art film? An avant garde experiment? A filmmaker’s idea of a practical joke? Actually, it’s none of these things. In many ways director Quentin Dupieux has created the perfect cinematic opposition to every snobby film critic who has ever published a hinder of condemnation toward a given piece of celluloid storytelling…and then some. Rubber’s very existence is built upon the idea that not everything we encounter as human beings can be easily explained away, let alone contrive an answer for in the face of demanding authority. Dupieux’s screenplay embraces the reality that, whether we like it or not we live in a world of random events besieged by random consequences and if one were to forever search for meaning among madness they would most certainly succomb to madness themselves. As the old saying goes, ‘shit happens’. Plain and simple.

With that said, Rubber is in no way a depressing film. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Visually, it's incredibly sharp and filled to the brim with surreal imagery and memorable sequences (Robert’s face off with the police car is priceless) that help sustain the run time and prevent the potentially one-note gag from growing stale too soon. The soundtrack is also amusing and interestingly playful, especially considering the hefty bloodshed that takes place and its prominence during the films’ second half. All these aspects are beautifully orchestrated and made possible by the resounding sense of humor that Dupieux employs so charmingly throughout the movie; a winning combination that further exemplifies the films’ peculiar plight.

Completely self-aware, knowingly cheeky and thoroughly irreverent, Rubber is the best film about nothing ever made. Remember, this is in no way a denouncement. No sir. If you watch the film and come away thinking “that was pointless”, you’d be missing the point….or would you? Maybe not. Are we meant to know? Who cares. Just see it.



Dir: Quentin Dupieux
Writers: Quentin Dupieux
Cast: Stephen Sinella, Roxane Mesquida, Wings Hauser
Country: France
Run Time: 82mins
Rating: MA15+