Deerskin

This slyly paranoid art film proposes what cannot be put back in order — or, as an amateur filmmaker might think, rectified by pressing a rewind button. It defies back-to-roots, back-to-nature aspirations (our roots being torn down and vandalized now) and so goes forward into murderous madness.

However hackneyed or self-consciously quirky this premise may sound, Deerskin sets about disarming the spectator from very early on, so that all the movie’s idiosyncrasies appear organic.

To be sure, Deerskin may not be as narratively intricate and labyrinthine as previous offerings from the electronic musician-cum-DJ-cum-director. But it remains a zany comedy imbued with the same unbridled and hallucinatory spirit of the man who once wrote and directed a comedy about a killer sentient tire, and now helmed and penned another one with a deerskin jacket and its deranged owner as protagonists.