A boldly imaginative Kafka-esque parable, “The Lobster” is loaded with dazzling ideas that don’t ultimately pull together.
In the first English-language film from Greek auteur Yorgos Lanthimos, Colin Farrell plays a dejected man who, after being dumped by his lady, is forced to move into the Hotel, where guests have 45 days to find a romantic partner or else be turned into an animal of their choosing and be released into the wild. (He chooses the lobster.) As encouragement, or torture, guests are treated to such experiences as having one hand cuffed behind their back — reminding them why two are better than one.
These fascists of couple-dom are opposed by an equally absurd group of radical individualists, the Loners, a band of forest guerrillas who abhor relationships so much that those caught flirting have their lips cut off, and the only dance music allowed is electronica because you can groove to it solo (with headphones, naturally). The Farrell character’s growing fondness for a fellow Loner (Rachel Weisz) could be lethal for both.
The film is so dryly zany that I hoped for a suitably bonkers conclusion. Instead “The Lobster” creeps to an uncertain close, leaving it to you to debate what it was all about.