Directed by Yorgos Lanthimos

Within the first five minutes of seeing The Lobster, it becomes abundantly clear that it’s a film like no other. It occupies so many genres, whether it be comedy, drama, sci-fi, fantasy, satire – all situated in a dystopian near-future world much like our own, that almost forces us to laugh, if at least, to tell ourselves that these situations couldn’t possibly happen to us. But depending on who you are, you can either cackle obliviously along to the absurdity of the characters and plot, or you can stare in horror as you see what the filmmakers are trying to show us through these exaggerations: the truth about our world, our society, and the terror of isolation and exclusion that comes with our existence, and need for companionship. This is what director Yorgos Lanthimos has crafted, as his first film about love. Is it optimistic, pessimistic, or absolutely crazy? Probably all of the above. But that’s what makes Lanthimos such a compelling director, and The Lobster such an idiosyncratic film: he applies the theory of film being both a mirror and a magnifying glass, and then absolutely burns the subject into a fiery hell. His films don’t have heroes, they have victims – and isn’t that who we all see ourselves as?

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