Themroc
Michael Piccoli stuns in this post-68 provocation as a house painter who just finally snaps, rejecting language and all moral order, launching a one-man war on civilization from his increasingly cave-like apartment. 104 minutes without any dialogue, just grunts and whistles and yowls, Themroc is a singular, insane micro-budget anti-film from Claude Farabal.
If Infestation Fest showed the labors and fantasies that go into the maintenance between inside and outside, inhabitant and pest, clean and unclean – fantasies and technologies that make “society” and the “family” as such – Themroc revels in its reversals: annihilating the boundaries and reforming the home into a cave in the heart of Paris, overrunning sexual taboo, overwhelming ordered speech with an infestation of unclean grunts in a spectacular, messy attack on representation.