And yet, Strickland never punches down or builds his narrative around insensitive fart jokes. To the director, Stones should be empathized with, not lampooned. It\u2019s a refreshing outlook on a landscape so ready for the easy joke, no matter the target. While Strickland doesn\u2019t wholly break new ground \u2014 he revisits some of the same sonic themes he covered in Berberian Sound Studio<\/em> \u2014 Flux Gourmet <\/em>is nonetheless singular in its comedic wit and study of collaborative artistic dynamics. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Strickland\u2019s film takes place at a secluded manor house wherein an avant-garde sonic catering collective, known for using plant-based ingredients, takes up residency with the financial support of the institute\u2019s patron Jan Stevens (Gwendoline Christie). The collective involves the exacting and unorthodox visionary Elle di Elle (Fatma Mohamed), and her technical partners: the resistant Lamina (Ariane Labed) and the submissive Billy (Asa Butterfield). Stones, a self-described hack, observes this combustible group at work and individually interviews them. From his voiceover and the group\u2019s responses to his questions, we know this collective isn\u2019t fated to last. How it will eventually crumble, however, means little in relation to the bumps they experience in their aesthetic journey. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Strickland doesn\u2019t care much for strict plotting. Instead he composes revealing vignettes meant to interrogate each character\u2019s respective doctrine. Stevens and Elle, for instance, immediately find disagreement over a flanger effect, causing both women to dig in their heels. Their dispute, of course, isn\u2019t really over the flanger (the film\u2019s sonic MacGuffin); it\u2019s to do with their own individualism and vision. Their struggle throws both Lamina and Billy in the unsuspecting middle. <\/p>\n\n\n\n While Strickland\u2019s penchant for absurdist humor is always on point, for Flux Gourmet <\/em>to work, you need actors who are totally committed to the bit. And this cast doesn\u2019t relent. Bremmer returns as the same kind of skeevy guy he played in In Fabric. <\/em>Butterfield takes on a deliciously weird Billy, a young man hypnotized a la Pep\u00e9 Le Pew by cooch aroma. The austere but no less farcical Christie provides further enjoyment whenever she goes broad. And Fatima, Strickland\u2019s best collaborator, who often seems game for anything, is fully devoted as a performance art maven.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Still, it\u2019s telling that we see this world through Stones\u2019 eyes, played by an endearing Papadimitriou,mostly because Stones doesn\u2019t represent himself as anyone special or someone totally concerned with artistic integrity. Stones took this gig for the money, knowing full well it amounts to fluff. Juxtaposed from his squarish intent, the comedy at play becomes even more absurdist, especially as an opportunistic Elle, feigning worry for him, leverages Stones\u2019 illness for her own performance gains. During one presentation she smears her body with a jar of chocolate mousse meant to imitate Stones\u2019 fecal matter. She and Dr. Glock later make his colonoscopy a live event. They\u2019re all humiliating ordeals, but Stones is too affable to dissent. <\/p>\n\n\n\n Flux Gourmet <\/em>features Strickland\u2019s usual interest in nature (the collective takes early morning constitutionals for inspiration) which he uses to give us a break from the claustrophobic, often artificial confines of the manor house. Strickland has always been enamored by sound: Most prominently in Berberian Sound Studio<\/em> and to a lesser extent in The Duke of Burgundy<\/em>. Flux Gourmet<\/em> also makes, as you\u2019d suspect, a meal out of sound. Boiling pots become cacophonous scapes; sizzling pans rise to symphonic heights. <\/p>\n\n\n\n The obsession shared by Elle over this art form harks to Strickland\u2019s habit of forming his characters around seemingly frivolous vocations: sound engineers, clothing salespeople, and lepidopterologist. It all comes together for a high comedy that challenges the boundaries of taste whereby misogynists, feminists, narcissists, and hacks are consumed by making plant-based food into music for a niche, uppercrust audience. It\u2019s a calling so coveted that a jilted group, not selected by Stevens, called The Mangrove Snacks, spend the movie ambushing the manor house in retaliation. <\/p>\n\n\n\n While Flux Gourmet<\/em>, surprisingly, might be Strickland\u2019s most approachable work, it shouldn\u2019t be immediately relegated to minor status, because it might also be his most empathetic offering. In a lesser filmmaker\u2019s hand, this movie would devolve to pure toilet humor. But Strickland treats Stones\u2019 condition with respect. He knows often people like his protagonist become the proverbial butt of the joke even though they\u2019re often in anguish: emotionally, physically, and psychologically. It\u2019s why, by film\u2019s end, he takes Stones from the periphery of this collective to the center, allowing him the kind of public-facing adulation rare for most journalists. It\u2019s a conclusion that makes Flux Gourmet<\/em> a delightful and nourishing dish. “Flux Gourmet” is out Friday in limited release.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/crookedmarquee.com\/stage8\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/06\/flux2-1024x818.jpg\")
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