Film Review: Buzzard         (        )

                 by David Unterberger

 

 

        Directed by Joel Potrykus, Buzzard is a slow burn commentary on millennial dissatisfaction and suburban mundanely anchored by an unsettling performance by newcomer Joshua Burge. The focus of the film is on the ramifications of Burge’s various scams to make the small amount of money necessary to maintain his laid back lifestyle. Burge’s character, Marty, spends his increasingly laid back days listening to death metal, eating junk food, wearing horror masks, and modifying his Nintendo Power Glove into a Freddy Kruger-esque weapon. He has a cubicle job, but refuses to acknowledge the minor responsibilities the come along with the position, and generally rejects attempts by his uncomfortably homophobic co-worker (Joel Potrykus) to develop a relationship resembling friendship.

 

        Buzzard becomes more difficult to compliment as its slow-burn narrative gradually becomes glacial. For every tense and unnerving scene of a gradually unraveling Marty threatening to use his bladed Power Glove on an innocent character, there are multiple repetitive sequences which portray the mundanity of suburban drudgery so effectively that they’re difficult to endure at all. This is not necessarily a negative considering one of the central aims of Potrykus’ film is to show why Marty would indulge in these scams to escape boredom and the thought of continuing such an aimless existence, but it makes for an increasingly grueling viewing experience. This is a film to appreciate much more than enjoy.

 

        The scene that best summarizes Buzzard comes near the end, when Marty has used the majority of his ill-gotten funds to spend one night in a relatively nice hotel in Detroit. After checking in, he realizes that he still has $20, and resolves to use his money to buy a custom made plate of spaghetti and meatballs from room service. Potrykus then dedicates approximately four minutes to Roger messily eating the spaghetti and meatballs with his hands while dressed in a white bathing robe and slouching on a well-made bed. Spaghetti falls from his mouth onto the floor. Tomato sauce gradually drenches the robe and the bed. Meatballs smush against his hands and are spread across his face.

 

        There is a significant amount of meaning to this extended one-take scene. It is a thesis on Roger’s personality, as he is someone who hopes to earn the funds necessary to make a mockery of the elite by engaging in his own particular brand of slobbery on their own turf, and he does not care what the world thinks of him. It is a statement on upper class fear of what would happen should the lower class be able to ascend to their level. It is a commentary on how millennials disregard the expectations of society set up by prior generations, and are more than willing to happily indulge in grotesque selfishness.

 

        It is also incredibly tedious and deeply unpleasant to watch in its entirety.

 

        Buzzard is most likely the exact film Potrykus hoped it would be: It is an intentionally glacially paced commentary with an intentionally unpleasant protagonist with thought provoking ideas at its core. For this reason, it’s difficult to slight the film as flaws will only be found depending on the viewer. To those willing to endure extended bouts of monotony for an interesting character study and fascinating commentary, Buzzard should be an almost flawless experience. However, with only the rarest moments of energy, the great majority of viewers will fall asleep well before the credits roll.