Synopsis
Y2K is approaching fast, but Abbie can’t get off the couch until he beats an unbeatable level on Pac-Man.
Relaxer
2018 Directed by Joel Potrykus
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Popular reviews
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somehow simultaneously a gross-out survival comedy, a masculine anxiety chamber drama (about how so many broadly accepted norms for male intimacy are defined by competition, dominance and abuse) and a dilapidated, apocalyptic psychic collapse brought on by consumerist ennui. i think this is the first movie textured entirely with hot couch guy detail; all sweaty bare skin on leather, curdled milk, tony hawk pro skater pixels, taco bell wrapping, dried cherry cola on carpet and the hum/glow of tube tv static. viscerally repulsive and sad, this takes 90s videogame slackerdom and channels it through a surrealist nightmare with obvious shades of buñuel and cronenberg.
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1. In 1999 I was 14 years old and spent a lot of time in suburban basements playing N64. The impending Y2K apocalypse was not a major concern for me though a general sense of paranoia at that time was palpable: I used to watch wrestling tapes with a kid named Drew whose father worked at Dominick’s as a “Y2K Quality Assurance Manager” and I’m still wondering what does that mean and why did he need a business card? Did he get fired after he assured everyone? So many questions, so few answers…
2. Rick Alverson once told me -- unironically and with extreme prejudice -- that the real “American Dream” was to sit on your ass all day eating…
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Extreme long takes capture gross toxic half-naked neurotic dweebs slathered in filth, scarfing junk food, and sticking to furniture like some Chantal Akerman movie made by a burnout who loves to heckle his own kind. What a vibe.
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"I'm too sticky to get up now!"
[Another 'definitely not for everyone' movie!]
When Abbie's (Joshua Burge) brother Cam (David Dastmalchian) issues him the challenge to beat 256 levels of Pac-Man without leaving his seat on the couch before the stroke of the Y2K New Year, Abbie clearly has no choice but to succeed at all costs and never give up.
The choice to frame a movie about the apocalypse through the lens of a man sitting in his underwear on a disgusting couch who barely moves for 90 minutes is something else. The end of civilization may be on the way, but from the perspective of our slacker hero it's all secondary to winning the challenge. Director Joel Potrykus…
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I've seen literally thousands of films, and I can safely say I have not and probably will not see a movie worse than this. I saw this months ago and wasn't allowed to talk about it but a positive review popped up and just wanted to warn everyone of the stench of this filth. It's not funny, it's not clever, and it looks like a barrel of dicks. I'd honestly rather take a used plunger to the face than ever see a second of this ever again.
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Eric Kohn's "challenge" to me was to write a whole review in like half an hour so here it is:
Joel Potrykus has an angle. Thus far every film he has made has focused on the life of a Midwestern slacker. His newest film Relaxer is no different in that regard but it takes his already established interest in the occult and bizarre to a logical endpoint. After experimenting with the fantastical in The Alchemist’s Cookbook, Relaxer meshes the two aspects fully into creating his most thematically and visually dense film yet.
Relaxer is a fable. It might feel strange to say that but it feels as though it is a fair description. The focus of the film is on…
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CARRIE meets the Fred Savage movie THE WIZARD, with the caveat this isn’t horror per se, and there’s nothing heart-warming about it. Anti-comedy for a small audience. It was ok?
A full synopsis might run contrary to the intended design. A guy on a couch playing Pac-Man has hostile interactions with the people coming in and out of his disgusting apartment. Details emerge over time.
Knowing some relevant lore probably helps, like Billy Mitchell’s video game high-score notoriety (as seen in KING OF KONG: A FISTFULL OF QUARTERS; although I don’t think the contest in Nintendo Power magazine featured here was a real thing), and the Y2K panic of the late 90s.
I’m not sure what films of this variety…
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as with all Potrykus' films, i demand zero explanation except for the ones my brain can half tape together with sugar-thick spit and the dying stickiness of a lint roller.
a tiny step backwards from Alchemists Cookbook but he's still the king of DIY weerd oddball grossboy films about milk-soured slacker brains and nothingisms.
each new film is another hieroglyph on the inside of someones head, unlocking an apocalypse
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Joel Potrykus's exceptionally unique and beyond filthy latest film displays a surreally grotesque downward spiral of disproportionate slackerdom and severe determination, abrasive one-location brilliance, and establishes him as a massive talent from the indie scene.
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