Taxidermia
The subset of cinephiles who like their movies in the “I dare you to watch this” mold will likely make a quick cult item out of Taxidermia, which is easily one of the most disgusting movies ever made. György Pálfi’s dark comedy is full of sexual perversity, vomiting, and vivisection, all in service of one of those “humans are naught but meat and want” meditations that’s compelling on the surface, if perhaps philosophically empty. A triptych film spanning three generations, Taxidermia begins as the story of Csaba Czene, a soldier so sexually frustrated that he inserts his penis into anything moist and/or gooey, be it a greased knothole or a mound of pig guts. Then the movie becomes the story of Czene’s son, Gergö Trócsányi, a Cold War-era competitive eater ensnared in a love triangle. And it ends as the story of the now-bloated Trócsányi’s troubled relationship with his rail-thin taxidermist son Marc Bischoff. All these interlocking tales exist squarely in the realm of allegory and absurdity—realists need not apply.