Julio Torres writes, directs, produces and stars Troublemaker (now streaming on Max), a very strange and idiosyncratic and – be careful with this word, which should only be used in the most extreme circumstances – peculiar comedy. Saturday night live writer and creator of HBO series The Espookys and Ghosts makes his directorial debut with this story of a Salvadoran stranger who moved to New York City to pursue his dream of being a toy maker at Hasbro. Easier said than done, especially when you consider that Tilda Swinton is in this movie, the only actress I can think of who would be capable of playing someone who would so casually derail someone’s dream of being a Toymaker for Hasbro. Plus, no movie with Tilda Swinton is easy to swallow, and this one is no different.
PROBLEMIST: STREAM IT OR SKIP IT?
The essence: Alejandro (Torres), or simply Ale if you wish, has a lock. You can’t stop looking at it. There he is, pulling your head off like a weed that continues to grow in a crack in your driveway no matter how many times you pull it out or poison it. He also walks funny and always has a kind of blank, bewildered look on his face and has ideas for toys that are weird that he presents to Hasbro as an alternative to toys that are actually fun. For example, a Slinky that does not go down stairs and therefore forces children to climb the stairs themselves and therefore learn something about disappointment. Surprisingly, his Hasbro application receives a rejection letter, forcing him to accept a job at a cryogenics company that freezes humans so they can wake up in the future. We see a video promoting the facility and saying that, legally speaking, “this company offers a form of euthanasia.”
I guess it’s a way of life. Ale is from El Salvador, where his artist mother seems to have raised him to be a weirdo — though, to be fair, pretty much everyone in this movie is a weirdo. Cryogenic work helps Ale keep his work visa so he doesn’t get deported, so of course he trips on a wire and unplugs a cryogenic chamber and gets fired for it, though he plugged it back in, though it took him too long to plug it back in so who knows if it actually hurt anything — but he gets fired anyway, and who knows if it’s really justified. Back to the series of escape room-style cubes Torres uses to illustrate the bureaucracy of the immigration system, and now Ale has a short window of time to get another job before he’s forced back to El Salvador.
This is when Tilda Swinton comes into the picture. She plays Elizabeth, an art critic married to Bobby (RZA), the cryochamber guy whose cord Ale tripped over. She needs a personal assistant, and Ale is her guy, sort of. She’ll sign over his sponsorship that will allow him to stay in the U.S., but only if he helps her put on an exhibition of Bobby’s paintings (they’re all of eggs, for some reason). Easier said than done, because the art world is impenetrable and snobby, and besides, Elizabeth is a maniac who makes very unreasonable demands on everyone around her and shrieks at them like a lost soul or a harpy until she gets what she wants. There’s no money in work for Ale, at least not yet, so she resorts to answering sketchy Craigslist ads to earn money to pay for the tiny room in the exorbitantly expensive apartment she shares with lunatic roommates. Meanwhile, the clock on his immigration status is ticking, and I feel like Ale linking his destiny to this horrible tornado-woman probably wasn’t the smartest choice, and it’s a long shot for him to eventually achieve his dreams, but for some reason he feels the need to honor his commitment. This movie really traffics in the inexplicable, I assure you.
What movies will it remind you of?: problematic It’s a bit like Michel Gondry’s. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind crossed with a Everything everywhere and at the same time A kind of comedy so random (although toned down, thankfully) crossed with The Devil Wears Prada If it were an imitation of David Lynch.
Performance worth watching: A character in the film describes Elizabeth as someone who can “bend the rules of time and space,” and that seemed like a meta commentary for Swinton, who fully commits to Torres’ brand of weirdness, and if you’re going to ask anyone who fully commits to your brand of weirdness, Swinton should be at the top of the list.
Memorable dialogue: In one of Ale’s horrible Craigslist jobs, he walks up to random people on the street and says, “Can I ask you a question about your hair?” while we are ashamed to death.
Sex and skin: None.
Our opinion: Problematic Routinely and distractedly, he reminds us how strange he is. Torres deploys so many ridiculous cuts, brave soundtrack flourishes, and Ron Howard-style narrator interjections (from Isabella Rossellini!) that it’s impossible to fall into any kind of narrative rhythm. Surely that’s intentional, a reflection of the frustration one feels as an immigrant pursuing whatever he thinks the American dream is, overcoming one ridiculous incompetence after another. Point taken, but a film that so often draws attention to itself in an overtly irritating way runs the risk of being… outlandish! Alienating his quirk! – audience with – peculiarity! – All its peculiarity! – the asides quickly become annoying, Just like this same phrase. I’m not smart?
Of course, the method will work for those who can stomach and take advantage of Torres’ unconventional wavelength. But for others, especially those who were bothered by Torres’ similar thematic and stylistic madness, Everything everywhere and at the same time – the movie can be a little excessive. Torres tends to forgo suggestion in lieu of literalism, underlining and making exclamations of his points as if he’s worried we’ll get lost in the illogic and meaninglessness of Ale’s travails. The biggest offender of this narrative is the character of Elizabeth, a scathing caricature of privilege; The filmmaker almost turns Swinton into a shrill, throwback megaphone, but the actress often finds a way to make the eardrum-bursting entitlement rants at least a little funny. The other side of the coin is Torres’ surreal, deadpan acting and directing gestures, where it seems like she wants us to laugh at something more because it’s quirky and strange than legitimately funny.
The main disconnect here is in the Ale itself. We feel compelled to care about him because of his unfair situation. I was more emotionally involved in it. idea In character, Ale’s character is more interested in giving creative, well-meaning immigrants a legitimate shot at the American dream than in the character itself. Ale’s heart is riddled with a bunch of stolid eccentricities. I liked how he remained calm under pressure, functioning as a foil to Swinton’s strident movement. But I found myself a bit alienated by this guy, who is more caught up in his filmmaker’s wearying vision than the byzantine madness of America and its cold, dispassionate systems.
Our call: It’s easier to admire problematic that you really like or enjoy. SKIP IT.
John Serba is a freelance writer and film critic based in Grand Rapids, Michigan.
