A lot of this film I feel can be summed up in a scene where we have our protagonist asking what would seem to be a normally curious question of a police officer after seeing a fire off the side of the road, to which the police officer responds, “I just don’t feel like telling you.”
Wrong, like the filmmaker’s previous film (Rubber), is a film that lives by its refusal to explain itself. It presents so many inexplicable things within its 95-minute runtime that one almost can only leave the film unfulfilled.
A strong element of the film is the story that Dolph (Jack Plotnick) wakes up one morning to find his dog is missing. Shortly after he’s contacted by Master Chang (William Fitchner) who admits to kidnapping his dog — for the greater good of making sure Dolph never loses appreciation for his dog — but then confesses that there was an incident during the kidnapping and now his dog is certifiably missing. Dolph, and Master Chang, begin to utilize the services of detectives that use high-end equipment that shows the residual memories of a dog’s turd as well as techniques described in Chang’s book that helps dog owners communicate with their dog telepathically.
If that paragraph wasn’t enough to give you a whirl I can honestly promise you so much more unexplained and unable to be truly understood is to be found in this film. During the viewing I found myself taking note of every asinine thing that the film delivered me and at the end my list (which I believe I may have missed one or two things) was thirty-plus. To give an example every morning Dolph’s radio alarm clock went off at the exact time of 7:60 AM. Part of wanted to question if in the world of Wrong we have hundred minute hours and therefore is is a day that’s two thirds longer than we normally understand it to be or did the recalculate it such that people still have a normal 24 hour day but it’s just measured with 100 minute long hours? My brain does weird things when it’s presented with weird things.
While I’ve been on record talking about the love of crazy things in movies — a la The FP — I feel this movie goes even further than that. While The FP felt aggressively bad in order to show the ridiculousness of everyday boring narrative (in the realm of tournament genre film), Wrong feels like a film aggressively incomprehensible because the creator didn’t feel it necessary to make his film understandable.
What pains me the most about this film is that in bite size chunks it works. Which could be why I was so stoked from the initial trailer. Each crazed element on it’s own, every other scene and every moment of Fitchner line delivery manage to create one part mystic craziness and another part off kilter hilarity. However, somehow putting that many things one after another causes for each eventual piece of odd to slowly decrease the level of enjoyment one gets from this kind of a film, and by the time we reach the end I doubt you can remember anything too specific as you try to wade through the plethora of wrong that is this movie.
This is like my version of The FP, I absolutely loved the oddness of this film. The film manages to be about everything and nothing at the same time. It is definitely not a film that will achieve more than a cult following but, like Rubber, I had a great time watching this film at Toronto After Dark.Film Festival.
One day we should arrange for a match between Quentin Dupiex and Jason Trost to see who is the greater of asinine movie making.