Slack Bay (Ma loute) Reviews
Calling it merely a "farce" might be too tame for capturing just what boundaries it crosses and how far it goes. There is a cartoonish quality in which bourgeois culture is savagely lampooned (Juliet Binoche has never skittered about the screen quite so dimwittedly and hysterical as she does in Dumont's film). But, underneath the hijinks, there's a heart black as coal.
Slack Bay takes the "eat the rich" dictum literally, and never before have I seen a film shuffle back and forth between the genres of screwball and body-horror so nonchalantly.
Stately compositions and strikingly crisp cinematography frame these otherwise incongruous worlds, adding to the overall absurdist conflation that is this film. Slack Bay strikes so many outlandish postures at once, it seems absolutely capable of anything.
During the film, one character, played by Fabriche Luchini, remarks on his estate's view overlooking the eponymous bay, "One sees it so much, one no longer notices it anymore." Nothing is familiar in Slack Bay, and, because of that, you notice everything.