Madman Guy Maddin made this bizzaro four minute short...and it, frankly, defies description. It's practically a must see if you're into Guy Maddin's work as he certainly utilizes his style in a unique and totally "Maddin-esque" way, and it makes for some fascinating watching. Any real analysis or discussion of the film is almost pointless; it't almost TOO weird for that...it's...it's...it's really hard to describe with words unless one were a poet, but even if one were a poet their descriptions of what insanity bursts in every corner in every frame of this film would likely be extremely difficult reading, and something the average reader would have a difficult time processing. All I can say is that this is, no doubt, an experimental and wild ride that is saved by Maddin's signature stylistic liberties and sense of absurdist humor.

"You all better go back to the gym, you look like you're gaining weight. I gotta go to the store and buy some condoms." A pause. "And remember, NO SLAPPING." says the old man to his dozen or so protégés, handsome and shirtless young sailors in some tropical surroundings, as a dreamy 30s sort of romantic melody plays. As soon as the old man and his bike are out of sight though, a homoerotic Three Stooges slap-party starts, with percussive steel-drum (played by more shirtless guys) and a droning deep string section (unseen). It's the Stooges meet Kenneth Anger on a Hope/Crosby "Road to..." set. For a second, one of the guys in close-up looks just like Curly! Manic, crazy, hilarious.

A hazy, fever dream of riverbank eroticism played out as a mirror ball recollection of turn of the century soft-core surrealism; with the whole thing further abstracted by the continual stylisations of the director, his absurd sense of postcard caricature and bawdy humour, and the exciting presentation of music and movement that recalls the energy and sensuality of the continually fascinating masterpiece, West Side Story (1961). You can attempt to read the film on a deeper level if you must, however, I think the intention of Maddin was simply to play around with the various iconography of early gay cinema as an exercise in ironic style and sly subversion, whilst also experimenting with the representation of movement and rhythm in a purely musical sense (something that he would eventually return to with a film like Dracula: Pages from a Virgin's Diary, 2002). The emphasis is clearly on style and technique, as opposed to any kind of conventional narrative or accent on plot; with the director instead experimenting with elements of interpretive dance and his typically antiquated approach to cinema, as a parade of preening boy-toys in sailor suits indulge in fighting and frivolity as an extended metaphor for the nature of man and the continuing cycle of violence.However, even with such suggestions in mind, the film is presented in such a way as to defy easy interpretation, with the spellbinding quality of Maddin's film-making approach and the sheer hypnotic quality of the rhythms of the music and the rhythms of the film transporting us in a way that the very best pictures often do. Even though many chose to accept this simply as an exercise in stylistic indulgence, you can still attempt to find some kind of sub-textual connection with the ideas, finding elements of metaphor or allegory perhaps in the way that Maddin juxtaposes an antique, anachronistic presentation of clearly defined sense of iconography, with an energy and excitement often lacking from many authentic films of the era that he is here making reference to. More fittingly however, the film can be approached as an infernal parody of the notions of machismo and male bravado, as ego and competition fuel the performance into more and more frenzied realms of dance-like violence that is 'acted' (both by the performers and the characters that they portray), as opposed to 'felt'. You could also see the film as an extended metaphor for sex, with the harsh foreplay giving in to a series of beautiful lines and movements before all participants lie back, exhausted and spent.This interpretation is further suggested by the opening lines of dialog, in which the elder of the men announces that he's going into town to buy condoms, quickly reminding the boys that there will be "no slapping" - perhaps a pertinent allusion here to "no slapping / no sex". Again, these are just suggested interpretations on my part, with the film really working as a visual experience, no different from music video or performance art. It's all very silly and somewhat tongue-in-cheek as well, with the faux-kitsch implications of the title also going some lengths in suggesting the frivolous and amusing tone that the director seemed to be attempting. At the time of writing, I'm still a novice when it comes to the work of Guy Maddin, though I've seen most of his short films and find them all to be excellent in their own unique and compelling little way. Though it at first might seem like a ridiculous novelty, Sissy Boy Slap Party (1995) is actually a fascinating and highly entertaining six-minute film of captivating design, intelligent style and pure, unadulterated imagination.

This movie is a little slice of choreographic genius. Shot in Guy Maddin's black and white faux early-film style, it's a six-minute dance of, well, sissy boys slapping each other. They slap, they cry, they giggle, and you laugh. It's set up, timed, and concluded flawlessly. There are jungle rhythms, beautiful boys, builds and climaxes, and one-of-a-kind cinematography. If you appreciate Guy Maddin at all, if you like camp, or if you think the title "Sissy Boy Slap Party" is funny, there's no reason not to own this and stick in your DVD player whenever you need a quick pick-me-up. Sofa guests seem to love it, too.