Written by Andreas Babiolakis

I don’t have a problem with weird films. I think that should be a given if you’ve read enough of my reviews and articles here on Films Fatale or for any other outlet I have had the privilege to write for. I don’t want the above rating to insinuate that Rumours, the latest film by Canadian arthouse icon Guy Maddin and his recent collaborators (Evan and Galen Johnson, who are great in their own right), was too strange for my liking. I instead have a major disconnection from the film that — as one of my smaller complaints — was even more insane than it wound up being. The latest in the recent surge of eat-the-rich satires (where the wealthy elite get handed a plate of suffering and comeuppance, depending on who they are) is a bleak, comedic take on a G7 summit that goes wrong, with the seven most powerful politicians in the world being forced to face the consequences of their own actions. Rumours doesn’t go far enough, nor does it tell us much aside from what we already know: most politicians are inept, and the world is forced to circle jerk itself into oblivion as a result (I’m just using Rumours’ imagery here; you’ll find similar sentiments in the film).

The Group of Seven is represented by a star studded cast of global talents, with most performers covering their home nation; Roy Dupuis is the Canadian Prime Minister (with enough traits that can connect him to Justin Trudeau, particularly his false sense of proper female empowerment); Denis Ménochet is the French President who goes through some of the worst struggles within the film; Nikki Amuka-Bird, Takehiro Hira, and Rolando Ravello play the Prime Ministers of the United Kingdom, Japan, and Italy, respectively. The two outliers make sense in their own ways. Aussie legend Cate Blanchett plays Hilda Ortmann, the Chancellor of Germany, likely because Rumours needed to be driven by an A-list superstar (like most Canadian films do) in order to get properly noticed. Then, there’s English veteran Charles Dance as the President of the United States, British accent and all (I can only surmise that this is to try and represent the earliest years of England’s colonization of America, and maybe an implication that the nation hasn’t evolved much since). Swedish star Alicia Vikander (who continues to be under-utilized in the film industry when she is one of this generation’s finest talents) has a minor role as Celestine Sproul, the Secretary-General of the European Commission; like much in Rumours, her involvement is without much reason and, as a result, any long serving impact.

*Rumours* is a well-intentioned attempt to satirize the current state of global politics, but it adds little to the discussion while getting caught up in its own paradoxes.

The G7 committee have connected together in Germany to discuss an ongoing concern about bog bodies (corpses that are contained and preserved within bogs); the one they stage a photo with just happens to have a gigantic penis that is wrapped around his neck (Rumours is so juvenile at times that it’s forcing me to make a joke about how this bog body is hung, despite the fact that I know the grammatically correct word for the form of execution is “hanged”). While the G7 starts trying to draft a proper statement about the situation to address the world with, we see the various ways they are procrastinating, getting distracted, or quarreling (due to past or current relationships and tensions). There’s obviously something going on here with how certain countries are relating — or conflicting — with one another, like Canada’s reliance and flirtiness with new nations at all times, or how attached at the hip the Prime Ministers of Japan and Italy are, but Rumours never explores these statements far enough to really get profound viewpoints or funny observations about them.

When a wind blows away the French President’s draft away, he goes searching for his document, only to find some atrocious sights: more bog bodies (these ones are very much alive, mind you, and cannot stop masturbating; yes, it’s that kind of film), and the house whose gazebo the G7 have been using is completely abandoned. The rest of the G7 also notice that all of the other people around them (mainly staff who have been serving them) have vanished. What starts off as a mission to find out where everyone went becomes a quest for survival when the sun sets, and the G7 are stuck in the middle of a horrifying forest with little food and high potentials for danger. When they descend upon the dark and obstructed passages of the forest, I could only imagine what terrifying or absurd sights were awaiting the G7 (and, as a result, us). Well, I made it through to the other side of this ride and I can report what transpired: not much.

The strangest it gets is once Celestine reveals a massive brain just sitting in the middle of the forest, which I can only imagine is the overwhelming stress the decisions of politicians cause the rest of us (either that, or the brain is Mother Nature’s, and she is slowly being put to death by the actions of global leaders). Not much happens with this brain, outside of what ultimately concludes the brain’s part of the story (a sequence that is startling enough that I have decided not to spoil it, but its final shot is clearly in line with my aforementioned reads on the symbolism present). As for the bog bodies, you see more, including some others who are fondling themselves barbarically; the rest kind of just stand there. This take on the zombie genre, I suppose, is an allegory of the mindless followers of world leaders (the wanking kind of confirms this), and it’s a parallel that is obvious and kind of tired in 2024. Between the brainless masses and the giant brain that has the biggest shock of them all, it’s clear that Rumours is satirizing the current state of the world’s population amidst political divide and societal collapse. Having seen a few of Maddin’s previous films (all, of which, have been far stronger than Rumours), I know he and his team are capable of far stronger metaphors than the ones we got here: last resorts via the comments one can find disgruntled and self-absorbed boomer Facebook users commenting on a Rolling Stone Magazine post they don’t agree with.

The film marches towards its climax which kind of saves Rumours a small bit; once you realize the film is meant to rationalize the self-absorption and aimlessness of most G7 speeches (in the eyes of Maddin and the Johnsons, anyway), its kookiness makes a bit more sense. Having said that, not only have other films tackled this kind of concept far better (like how the Coen brothers’ Barton Fink takes the notion of writer’s block and turns the insanity of the end result into the perplexing journey of how we got there), I also find that Rumours doesn’t have nearly as much methodology as it thinks it does. Rumours feels inspired by the sadistic films of Luis Buñuel who dabbled in surreal mysticism and comedy in nearly all of his films. The difference is that Buñuel managed to make you believe the fractured laws in his works, as if they could be real (but only within these realities). Rumours contradicts itself time and time again with its universal laws (one example is how the Canadian Prime Minister is able to carry an entire man and his dead weight just by using his hands and forearms for long stretches of time, and yet he can’t, say, use this super strength to smash into a house he wants entry to).

These frustrations extend to the narrative as well, with the biggest plot hole still bothering me days after I watched Rumours (I will be bringing up a spoiler here, so reader discretion is advised): with the Prime Ministers of Japan and Italy having found a truck, how did they know to drive it back to the mansion to find the rest of the G7? As far as they knew, the rest of the G7 were still at the dock waiting to ferry their way over to the other side of the body of water. There is absolutely no way they would have known, especially with the lack of cell phone reception the group faced for most of the film. This is only one example of a plot thread that feels contrived due to just conveniently serve the plot, and there is a list of others if I cared to place them here (this just happened to be the worst offender by far). If Rumours is meant to be a parable (a style of storytelling where I can forgive these kinds of oversights a bit more, given the prioritization of message over logic), it also isn’t effective in this way because Rumours isn’t strong in its deliverance of interesting core concepts either.

I’ll give Rumours some extra kudos because I did find the cast at least fun to be around (while I wouldn’t say anyone here was showstopping, no one was a weak link, either); I also found the cinematography by Stefan Ciupek quite hypnotic, and it elevated what could have felt like a half-baked Canadian indie project to an aesthetic feast (paradoxically, I found the dreamy, early gazebo shots — before anything bad happens — to be the most fascinating, even though you’d think I’d prefer all of the absurd imagery that would come later). While I don’t think much works in Rumours, I do appreciate what Maddin and the Johnsons were trying to say about global leadership and the futility of caring about the fate of civilization (it looks like we’re just driving ourselves into the ground either way). Rumours is short enough that my issues with it don’t greatly affect me, and I’m still able to appreciate the very few things that do work (at least to a small degree).

However, I cannot excuse the flaws of Rumours because of how much they bog down (heh) what potential the film had. I suppose my biggest gripe with Rumours is that — ironically, for a film that uses this human organ heavily as a symbol — it doesn’t know how it wants audiences to use their brain. In ways, you’re meant to suspend disbelief with the plot holes and contrivances, but this requires you to stop thinking. At the same time, you’re meant to think throughout Rumours to analyze what is being said, forcing you to turn your brain back on. You cannot expect audiences to not read into the very films you’re expecting them to assess during and afterward. It just doesn’t work. Neither does Rumours.

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.