Nude tuesday

Armagan Ballantyne’s Nude Tuesday, which had its premiere at the 2022 Tribeca Festival, is unlike anything else you’ll see this year, with its unique blend of raunchy sweetness (or sweet raunch?) and its quite literally made-up dialogue.  Even without Jemaine Clement’s contribution (who admittedly is indispensable here), there’s a lot to enjoy.  The humor works on multiple levels, from the broadly funny slapstick comedy to the intellectual gymnastics at play as the actors convey a wide range of emotions, all in gibberish.  It’ll be interesting to see how this film does on wide release, as I’m sure the frequent full-frontal nudity will scandalize some.  But for the adults in the room who aren’t bothered by the nudist antics (which themselves are rarely, if ever, sexualized), there’s a sharp wit and a beating heart here, along with a surprisingly strong thread of melancholy.

The film opens on Laura (Jackie van Beek, who also devised the made-up language—more on that later) and Bruno (Damon Herriman, who, it must be noted, has the unique, macabre distinction of playing Charles Manson twice, on “Mindhunter” and Once Upon a Time in Hollywood), a conservative, suburban married couple with a stagnant love life. As their wedding anniversary approaches, they’re clearly unhappy with each other and feel unfulfilled, both as partners and as individuals. During the day, he sells kitchen appliances, while she pitches products such as ‘Naughty Naps’—adult diapers for people who still want to feel sexy. They’re not having sex, and they openly argue in front of their two young daughters. When they’re gifted with a trip to Wondeula, a couple’s retreat for those who no longer ‘rumble in the jungle,’ they seize the opportunity to revitalize their marriage. There, they discover a bohemian group of people learning life lessons from the ridiculously, comically hypersexual Bjorg (Clement, clearly having fun). As the film proceeds and they digest Bjorg’s lessons, the couple begin to learn things about each other, and themselves.

It’s an admittedly simple setup, but so much of the film’s success comes from the manner in which it was produced, specifically its script.  Every single line in the film is completely made-up, unintelligible gibberish, even the songs.  (Pay attention to the soundtrack for an amusing rendition of “Islands in the Stream.”) The imaginary language, which sounds not unlike a Scandinavian dialect, was devised entirely by van Beek. The actors had an English script that they would rehearse, but at filming time, would use this script as a springboard, improvising the made-up language. This allowed the actors to focus on the emotional performances and to really play off each other.  After the film was finished, different contributors including the English comedian Julie Davis, ‘interpreted’ the dialogue to write the subtitles. This lends Nude Tuesday an anarchic, rebellious streak, and is also entirely in keeping with its themes. This is first and foremost a movie about people learning to love themselves and each other, and trying to communicate with each other.  It’s thus wholly appropriate that the characters aren’t actually saying anything.  They fight, they love, they mourn, and the content of what they’re saying doesn’t matter.  What matters is the emotion they’re conveying, and the way in which other characters respond to them. It feels like a natural evolution of the mumblecore genre, in which characters struggle to connect with each other but are let down by the limitations of language (Clement is no stranger to that genre, having given us the somewhat mean-spirited but still hilarious Eagle vs Shark). It’s also quite impressive technically, watching the actors smoothly deliver their nonsense lines.  It all feels of a piece linguistically; that is, it truly feels like a cohesive language rather than each actor improv-ing on the spot. The gibberish also allows the performances to shine that much more. In one knockout scene with Rufus (Ian Zaro), Herriman’s Bruno is overcome by anguish and the gibberish dialogue both contrasts and accentuates the pain that is writ large on his contorted face. It’s truly something to behold.

The film also walks a delicate tightrope of raunchiness and sweetness.  Its European approach to sexuality is a frank, nonjudgmental one.  A few sex scenes aside, none of the full-frontal nudity here is sexualized.  There are no lecherous glares here, and every character is welcoming and accepting of everyone else.  It’s refreshing and gives the audience permission to adopt the same stance.  (If only America weren’t so repressed, but that discussion falls outside the scope of this review…) The contrast between the nudity and the gorgeous New Zealand vistas is also amusing, as the characters’ journeys of self-discovery take them through wooded, moss-covered forests.  The final act finds the characters going for a titular Nude Tuesday hike and it’s a jaw-dropping visual to see them all standing in a row, naked save for hats and boots, framed by beautiful, snow-capped mountains behind them.

Though the movie is never less than chuckle-inducing, it only occasionally rises to the level of laugh out loud humor.  And most of these moments are due to Clement, whose every line is an innuendo of some of sort.  In one rousing monologue, he declares himself an “eagle pimp” and one of his followers his “hot kestrel hooker.” He also delivers some of the best physical comedy in the film, particularly in a riverside scene opposite van Beek.  Suffice it to say, it’ll probably turn you off of fish for a  few days (it’s worth it). And just like the other characters, there’s a softer side to Bjorg, beneath the libidinous posturing. This is a huge part of why the film feels so open and affirming.  No matter how ridiculous some of the characters can be, at their core, they’re just wounded humans looking for connection. The inclusivity applies to everyone—one hilarious running joke involves Louis (Chris Bunton, who has Down syndrome), whose apparently mallet-shaped penis is a frequent subject of gossip throughout the film.

Ultimately, this absurdist comedy is a story about people learning to foster connections with each other and to be true to themselves. Despite the Mad Libs-style script, the physical comedy, and the nudist antics, this is a film that ultimately is anchored in the real world, with a real sense of melancholy and an ending that some will find bittersweet.  Those looking for more escapist, New Zealand-style wacky comedy in the vein of What We Do In The Shadows might be turned off by this acknowledgment of the real, but most will find this bizarro exploration of love and loss to be richly rewarding.