Jaco Van Dormael loves both the ontological – and the absurd. Much of his canon has taken an irreverent approach to religion and theology, presenting alternative creation myths, and musing on the nature of free will – and whether humankind is really equipped to accept that type of responsibility.
In this delightfully zany offering– it begins as a skilfully woven satire before slowly unravelling into a colourful mess of fraying threads – Von Dormael reimagines God (Benoit Poelvoorde) as a pathetic bully, who invented the world both to stave off boredom and to inflict mean-spirited pranks on unsuspecting humans. There’s a wicked deliciousness to this anti-fantasy of the creator as a bathrobe-wearing slob, who lives in a claustrophobic flat, constantly snarling at his browbeaten wife and neglected 10-year-old daughter, Ea. (His son, JC, flew the coop a while ago, much to his father’s annoyance.)
When Ea (Pili Groyne) can no longer take her father’s cruelty, she escapes into the world, determined to become humanity’s (second) Saviour. Before roaming Brussels to recruit some unconventional apostles, she also hacks her father’s computer and informs every living person of their death date, prompting humankind to evaluate how they really want to spend their remaining time on Earth.
Von Dormael’s mischievous sense of humour is displayed in tiny, unexpected details: a black-out bar becomes a modern fig-leaf, shielding Adam’s dignity, while poor urban planning results in giraffes populating a human-free Brussels. But other jokes, like a woman with a gorilla soul-mate, feel sluggish by comparison.
It’s almost as if, on the seventh editing day, Van Dormael rested. Oh well – he’s only human.