I've had a sort of strange interest in Guy Maddin's films for a while now, and I think I've seen every single one of his short films whether they be on Youtube or other sites of similar nature. In my humble opinion, I think he is one of the most original and greatest film-makers out there right now. And The Saddest Music in the World utilizes his unique vision to outstanding extent.
Using film-stock that looks recycled from the 1920s, Maddin creates a melancholy dream-scape of depression-era Winnipeg. It is a town of lost souls, as is the entire world outside of it, but this contest to find who is in fact that saddest country in the world (judged through song) brings the people together and brings a sort of drunken life to a world that has fallen asleep to escape the sadness of the depression. Some of the insights towards human sorrow are bitingly funny, as are the references to humanities undying love of beer (the winners of the competitions get to slide into a pool full of beer--and they're called weird if they don't drink out of it).
The film is also an examination of family ethics, played out through a bizarre love story. Roderick, Chester's brother, is an insane hypochondriac, who may or may not be the saddest person in the world, or may just be overreacting. Roderick's ex-wife, who is now Chester's gal-pal, is a scatter-brained nymphomaniac who has visions of her dead son that she has forgotten about completely. And Roderick's father, played with perfect love-lorn sadness by David Fox, is an alcoholic who caused the tragic accident in which the founder the contest lost both of her legs. Oh, and he happens to be hopelessly in love with her, but she is infinitely infatuated with Chester.
The events that follow are played out through stunning black-and-white visuals, tongue-in-cheek humor, and oustanding music to create one of the finest films that it has ever been my fortune to see. Everything meshes perfectly, from the themes of sadness and depression to the surprising social relevence, mixed in with Maddin's trademark frantic editing and silent-era strangeness. It is not quite as stimulating and frenzied as his short masterpiece The Heart of the World, but it is every bit as unique and captivating.
"I ask you--is there anybody here as happy as I am?"
And a man in a moose hat laughs at you.