First-time writer-director Ciaran Lyons flirts with brilliance in this devilish tour of celebrity egotism, spotlighting new-age talent Lorn Macdonald and Orlando Norman, but a volatile and zany tone might not be for everyone.
THERE ARE CELEBRITIES out there, like Chris Pratt, Justin Bieber, and Prince Harry, who point-blank refuse to take selfies. It’s a quirk of celebrity culture, a smartphone side effect we’re not sure is the last gasp of true privacy, or just plain rude.
It’s this fiery intersection of opinion that Ciaran Lyons skilfully weaponizes in his first feature film, reshaping the innocent request for a selfie into a maddening, twisting torture device – it’s a knockout idea.
It’s so rich and steeped in dramatic potential that it’s an obvious jumping off point for a movie. Yet, Lyons is the first, his finger very much on the pulse of contemporary culture.
The wheels of madness start to turn almost immediately. When our perpetually vaping protagonist, Tails (Lorn Macdonald), wakes up to an unexpected phone call from Truth (Michael Akinsulire), he is told that a secret, high profile client is coming to his tattoo parlour.
This bombshell could change everything, so Tails rolls out the red carpet for Tummy (Orlando Norman), a megastar singer and the moody epitome of a Gen Z celeb: oversized puffer jacket, clouds of smoke from colourful vapes, and an attitude that oozes passive aggressive mystery.
Their dynamic is bog-like, and oh-so tantalising to watch play out. Tummy is overly proud, like a puffed-up kid masquerading as an adult. Tails is in awe of his celebrity, ignoring many of the red flags that will eventually come to haunt him.
But, the selfie is the film’s ace. It’s a point of no return. When Tails innocently asks Tummy for a snap, the question flicks a switch not only in the singer’s head, but in the film itself. Here is a boundary that cuts the story in two: the logical set-up and the completely nuts payoff.
Fortunately, ‘manic’ is a tone Lyons seems at ease in. Tummy Monster is a volatile beast, so mad that it’s a wonder any director has the awareness to control it. But just when you think the madness could purge the film of any substance, Lyons proves he’s not here to be weird — he’s very self aware, not allowing Tails and Tummy to veer too far off planet logic.
Even when the line, ‘rub your tummy or I’ll think you’re an asshole’, is said, screamed and bellowed at nauseam, there is always a reason. Logic is kept very close throughout, however this is stress-tested in the final moments where the delicate balance of logic and zaniness tips every so slightly.
Truly original and independent cinema is increasingly hard to come by; films like Tummy Monster are tiny glimmers of light that poke through, and hopefully get noticed. Lyons, together with Macdonald and Norman, are a team of originals bursting with talent and something to say, who made a film that leaves you hopeful for the future of Scottish cinema.
Tummy Monster screens at Glasgow Film Theatre May 1, followed by a Q&A. Limited release across in May and June.
