Phil Tippett’s “Mad God” released its final part on June 16 to Shudder, showcasing 30 years of top-tier stop motion work in a confusing, unsettling film not comparable to anything else I’ve ever seen. Though at times the screenplay stutters in the depth it perceives of itself, the skill behind the animation is undeniable and further cements Tippett’s place as the “Mad God” of stop motion.
“Mad God'' doesn't have a traditional plot and, as a result, can be difficult to describe to readers. Initially released in three parts (like a Cronenberg-directed Dickens novel), “Mad God'' generally follows distorted, mutated figures as they attempt to carry out their violent goals in a war-torn underworld seemingly intended to mirror our world.
The Last Man (Alex Cox) sends masked assassins down in diving bells to detonate a bomb, flesh amalgamations exercise violent control over faceless wights and a floating deathlike figure sacrifices a baby to an alchemist, starting and dooming the new world and the old alike; these are just a few setpieces from Tippett’s sprawling exploration of war, humanity and apocalypse.
The creatures designed by Tippett stick out in their horror. Everything from the most unassuming wight to the most bombastic mutant moves with clear characterization — far more terrifying than identity-less creatures of lesser works. Though many are unabashedly goofy in design, seemingly by intent, it’s in their motion that Tippett generates genuine fear.
What grace the audience grants Tippett for his technical mastery, though, is quickly lost by his ham-fisted attempts at depth. Though film is a visual medium, some of the images felt far too enunciated and clear in their purpose, like an undergraduate’s first attempt at subtext. In his representation of the weird, often he seems to fall prey to the distinctly modern mistake of not trusting his audience to pull their own meaning.
An example of this mistake comes in the middle section, in which a surgeon dissects the captured assassin after he tries to detonate his bomb behind enemy territory. The surgeon strips him of everything and begins sadistically pulling organs, jewels and books from his open chest while he lies awake. Tippett seems to posit that the dual nature of our greed, both for wealth and knowledge, will ultimately lead to our reckoning and dehumanization.
This is fine, but the excavation of the body runs for nearly five minutes, a clear over budgeting of time that suggests the audience needs their hand held to pull meaning from what Tippett presents.
That being said, these extended moments of discomfort are incredibly effective at creating fear. At multiple points in the screening I attended, people in front of me walked out during moments of extreme discomfort, such as the excavation or a later sequence in which a crying baby is carried through the underworld for what seems like an eternity. Everything in “Mad God” takes three times as long as it would in another film, even more impressive due to the effort required to film even one second of a stop motion movie. Tippett explodes the audience’s sense of time.
To me, that’s what the film was about: sense and senselessness — our senses of responsibility, duty and care, alongside the primary physical senses and the sensations of joy and pain. In the end, duty is always fulfilled, even when it takes a toll on the agent; the assassin never stops trying to detonate his bomb, the nurse delivers the baby to the death figure and the death figure sacrifices it, dooming the world.
The overlord of the wight world is even segmented on screens throughout the film, suggesting that in a world at war, our senses become senseless. This mirrors the audience’s senses, suffocated and turned against them as the film drags along.
To me, “Mad God” was a confusing but impressive sloshing mess of a movie that’s still worth watching, if not for any other purpose than to pay respect to the work that went into it. It can be seen later this month at the Guild Cinema or online at Shudder, though I advise audiences to watch it on an empty stomach.
Spenser Willden is the culture editor at the Daily Lobo. He can be contacted at culture@dailylobo.com or on Twitter @spenserwillden
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