"A genius designer on an acid trip" is the way one character describes
the futuristic animated universe of Ari Folman's "The Congress," which
contains one of the most startling uses of the medium to come along in
years. Words can hardly do justice to the plethora of
outlandish visuals populating this ambitious sophomore feature from the
Israeli director of "Waltz With Bashir," but they're merely one piece of
a larger puzzle. Folman's beguiling project amounts to a stinging
indictment of mainstream culture's unending commodification. The
director spent half a decade assembling his loose adaptation of
Stanislaw Lem's science-fiction novel, "The Futurological Congress," and
the work shows in both its stunning appearance and the extraordinary
depth of insight paired with it. Folman uses beauty and wonder as
vessels for rage.
Echoing the meta device of "Being John
Malkovich," Folman's movie revolves around an actor playing a
fictionalized version of herself -- and in the process, delivering an
incredibly heartfelt performance. Robin Wright appears in two modes:
During the curious first hour, she struggles with her waning career,
eventually agreeing to a digital experiment that will prolong her
vitality indefinitely; during the nearly indescribable second half,
which takes place 20 years in the future, the rotoscope style Folman
first explored with "Waltz With Bashir" is subjected to a kaleidoscopic
makeover. Bright colors and cartoonish figures borrowed from over a
century of animation techniques populate each mesmerizing crowd scene to
create a breathtaking sensory impact.
