I am fairly certain – no, I am certain that this is the first movie I’ve seen in which two grown men breastfeed from a woman who claims to have an evil alien living inside her leg. You can’t make this stuff up. The alien speaks to the woman (Oona von Maydell) like Regan MacNeil through a vocoder and instructs that her son, Klaus (Daniel Fripan), be taught the ways of manhood. Meanwhile, her husband (David Scheller) sports a lively moustache, and their guest, a visiting student (Pit Bukowski), has to watch as his three maniacal hosts turn their home into the devil’s playground.
Der Bunker, directed by first-timer Nikias Chryssos, is an absurd extrapolation of a very serious topic. Parents want the best for their kids. But what happens when they want their German son to become president of the United States? Is that something Klaus can achieve in his lifetime, or in any German’s lifetime? Do they not see that he’s an eight-year-old boy who looks thirty-five, and that the alien leg of his mother will probably follow him to America and become its own reality TV show? These questions whizzed through my mind as I sat through Der Bunker, but I realise they shouldn’t be asked, because this is a movie that is completely unhinged from notions of reality. It exists purely within the inexplicable confines of the titular bunker, and in such a place, rules are boundless.
But movies need rules, don’t they? We need rules, or else we lose track of vision. Even The Lobster (2015), which ran away with its crazy ideas about love and the future, established for itself rules to live by, and it worked. Der Bunker is too wild for its own good. It lacks control, and has an ending that’s too tame for the abstract madness it introduces in the first two acts. I won’t spoil anything, but I wanted more madness. I wanted to be taken apart and put back together wrongly, so that nothing truly made sense anymore.
That would’ve been Der Bunker’s rule, and it would have tied it all together. Because as it stands, it has a powerful first and second act that I breezed through with glee, but pulls up a stop sign just before the end, when violence takes over and normality is shuffled in.