Mad God

                 
Phil Tippett's Mad God, from 2021, is the most audacious and visionary stop-motion animation film since Christiane Cegavske's Blood Tea and Red String. A journey through a dystopian terrain that resembles the more horrific landscapes of our world during the 20th century, the film is largely devoid of plot, dialogue, and characters, but has enough texture and detail to fill a dozen films. Like his surrealistic stop-motion animation forebears, specifically Jan Švankmajer and the brothers Quay, Tippett's work is a study of decomposition and reconstitution. Substances pour out of orifices and creatures are pulverized, but whatever juices and goo remains is recycled by other organisms. The circle of life, I suppose, but unlike The Lion King, this film is not for children.

Mad God is the first animated film I've seen that I've felt could have used more butterflies, rainbows, and unicorns, but, since Mr. Tippett toiled on this project for over three decades, I suppose one should cut him some slack for his monomania. Mad God resembles the grotty textures and bleak landscapes of Alexsei German's Hard to Be a God and Max Ernst's painting, Europe After the Rain. Like those works, Mad God portrays a world so fallen that it incurs the wrath of a deity as vengeful as the Old Testament Yahweh.