Dogtooth by Yorgos Lanthimos

Welcome to the twilight zone. Forget all the things you took for granted in life: norms, rules, logic and language. Shot almost entirely within the limits of a villa, Dogtooth’s secluded and uncanny world consists of a family of five that educates their children in an extremely peculiar way. Even their language is unusual: “salt” now means "phone" and "zombies" are, apparently, "little yellow flowers". The family members are not only banned from crossing the fence to reach the real world but also trained to play various bizarre games and collect points, overseen by the father. Christina, the only visitor to the house, serves as a sexual toy for their pleasure.

Giorgos Lathimos’ second feature is not exactly what you would call a standard Greek movie experience. Perhaps the strangeness of the film’s milieu makes the levels of sex and violence more acceptable, but aggression comes out in the form of psychological disturbance. The experiment eventually challenges the foundations of human behaviour; a micro-society of people who have become clockwork, with animalistic manners. With very few tangible time references, this Adam’s Family meets Truman Show tale makes us uneasy and alarmed. The frames are composed with a scrupulous symmetry, but once the abnormal is aesthetically stylized, it becomes painterly and emotionless. Although this does not affect the strong performances, which are deliberately mechanical but still have an emotional power.

Dogtooth’s sharp study of a dysfunctional education is not easy to absorb, but if you get used to this fictionalized oddity, real life can seem extremely boring.

As long as this is the game you want to play.

Eftihia Stefanidi