Premiering in Sundance’s NEXT section, though it just as easily could’ve been featured in their Midnight movies, Eddie Alcazar’s Divinity is the kind of pretentious, fricking bonkers sci-fi movie that audiences will either love or hate.  It’s the kind of movie I would’ve eaten up in my early-to-mid 20s, as it feels like the kind of surreal arthouse flick that you stumble upon at your local video rental store (if you’re fortunate enough to live near one).  It doesn’t always work, and will require some patience, but when it clicks, there are some incredibly imaginative, gonzo sequences that will likely stick with you long after the credits roll.

The movie opens on a vivid, indefinable black and white image, what appears to be the inside of a pulsating alien organ—a heart? A flower? It’s unclear, but telegraphs the director’s emphasis on visuals and sensory experience rather than narrative plotting. We next see an old videotape featuring Sterling Pierce (Scott “freaking Quantum Leap” Bakula), narrating his process of creating an anti-aging serum known as Divinity (cue Peter Griffin being excited they said the name of the movie in the movie). The equipment around him seems like it was borrowed from an old schlocky 1950s sci-fi movie, the kind they love to send up on MST3K. It’s all very analog, with lots of beeping lights.

We next cut to the present, where Sterling’s son Jaxxon (Stephen Dorff, possibly the Dorffiest he’s ever been) is now in control of manufacturing and distributing his father’s prized creation.  Whereas Sterling had nobler aspirations for the serum, Jaxxon gives it out almost like party favors to his rich friends.  This world, which is either an alternate version of ours, or sometime in the future (it’s not clear, not that it matters), is one in which people can live forever, at the expense of procreation. Instead, people value self-gratification and hedonistic desires.  Despite the director’s seeming disdain for this, his predilection for showing gratuitously naked women betrays him.  Indeed, the first time we meet Jaxxon, he’s having graphic sex with his lady friend.  Expect to see the female body displayed in all its glory throughout the film.  Don’t expect any reciprocation from the male co-stars though.  The only penises here are the ones growing on plants (you’ll see).

From here, the movie lurches forward aimlessly, without a likeable character or clear plot thread to hang onto.  Two men break into Jaxxon’s home, played by Moises Arias and Jason Genao (both are credited on IMDB as having the same character name, Star, but I don’t recall them actually being named in the movie), but their motivations are unclear, and only become somewhat more apparent by the film’s end. They hold him hostage and begin literally giving him a taste of his own medicine.  They’re soon joined by Nikita (Karrueche Tran), a woman who shows up at Jaxxon’s house to render services, but instead finds herself drawn to the two men, who may or may not be brothers (or even human). Lots of sex ensues. Hanging out on the margins, in separate plot threads, are Jaxxon’s brother Rip (Michael O’Hearn, hilariously representing the bodybuilder contingent in two Sundance movies, this and Magazine Dreams) and Ziva (Bella Thorne), the leader of a mysterious all-female cult, all dressed in white bodysuits.

This opening half or so will require the most patience from the viewer, as it’s unclear what exactly is happening.  There are unsubtle critiques of capitalism, with the characters frequently watching hilariously over-the-top TV commercials, one featuring Steven Ogg as a man whose life is changed by a virtual reality masturbatory aid. There’s also vague mentions of fertility, with Nikita in particular saddened by Jaxxon’s lone female fish.  The fish, she says, is getting ready to spawn a thousand eggs in the water, yet there’s no male to fertilize it.  Indeed it becomes clear that people have lost the ability to give birth, and that women who are able to do so are considered special, and vital for the future of the planet.  It’s a bit pro-lifey, but despite the directors’ pretentions, he doesn’t actually care.  It’s all scaffolding for the bonkers third act. (Think Children of Men, if Alfonso Cuaron did a lot of acid.  Like, a LOT.)

Towards the end of the film, the bacchanalia is interrupted by the arrival of a throng of revelers, including Rip, showing up at the house for a party Jaxxon had planned for that evening.  This kicks off a wildly entertaining, gonzo series of confrontations between the different characters that mostly justifies the slog getting there.  Alcazar uses what appears to be a combination of prosthetics, CGI, and stop-motion to stage one of the more memorable showdowns I’ve seen on screen in a while.  The transition between each style of VFX is done so seamlessly that you’ll be in awe.  I found myself asking, wait, when did this become stop-motion again?

While I hesitate to crown Alcazar the next great film auteur, this film is definitely the execution of a specific vision.  The entire film is shot in a crisp black-and-white palette and has a satisfying celluloid texture throughout.  In a post-film Q and A, Alcazar stated that the entire movie was shot in 16 mm, using so much film that Kodak had to make more just for them.  Whether or not it’s true, it’s interesting and helps to add to his self-mythologizing (not to mention the terrifying face mask he wore throughout Sundance). The film’s soundscape is also disconcerting, with frequent warbling, staticky sounds, and ethereal, otherworldly music.  With my hearing loss, I can’t tell what instrument was used, but if I had to guess, it sounds like someone was rocking the theremin in that recording booth. Jaxxon’s home, in which the bulk of the film takes place, also looks vaguely futuristic, with its sleek, curved lines.  (The house can be found in Joshua Tree.)

Ultimately, what you’ll remember is the film’s (and director’s) self-confidence, its various elements all working in sync to present this foreign, unfamiliar landscape.  Though there are half-hearted nods toward some kind of allegory, these won’t stick with you in the way that the completely bananas third act will, or the bizarro images peppered throughout.  Jaxxon’s cranium gradually swelling from the Divinity infusion, turning him into something like the Elephant Man. That aforementioned penis plant. The brief dips into Cronenbergian body horror. And so on. I still don’t know if it’s a good movie, but it was a hell of a ride.  And I’m morbidly curious to see what Alcazar cooks up next.