Spermaharen is many things. It is the haunting story of a newly divorced newbie sailor facing fatal miscalculations in his clothing system, inexplicably opened ravioli cans and incompetently designed caviar tubes during a one-man trip around the world. It is simply the best cooking show ever written as a pair of enthusiasts of illegal psychotropic substances show us the best ways to a man's heart - or, in this case, the best ways to the veins of his left arm (if only that wine-homo would get out of the way!) It is a bizarre documentary, infinitely more disturbing than Alan Resnais' Night and Fog, covering the rather mundane (excluding the occasional OOWS*) life of culture personality Lars Brundin, fat, blond and weird. Finally, it's the story of poor old Doctor Hanke, a man whose increasingly rehearsed dreams of entering show business are continually interrupted by the anal cavities of his Cretaceous Era patient.
Of all these bizarrely intriguing and intriguingly bizarre shorts, the one that really sticks with you is Johan Rheborg's manic tour de force, Ensamseglaren (or "The Lone Sailor" as you yanks would say). Rheborg is unsettlingly convincing as the ravioli-loving, logically impaired sailor who slowly but surely slips further off of the edge. The way he enthusiastically and sincerely explains how to use toilet paper more economically, talks to himself, and throws a one-man gay pride parade is just stunning.
That's not to say the other segments are bad; Lars Brundin's shorts are just so out there that they're indescribable; Doctor Hanke's musical numbers prove once again why Robert Gustafsson has no business wasting his life and considerable talent away at Swedish game shows; and the brilliance of the junkie cooking show is self-explanatory. Overall this obscure, to say the least, collection of Internet short films is funnier and more memorable than most mainstream comedies and better shot, acted and written than just about every Swedish movie made the last few years.
If I were to brand this cult DVD, I'd call it "retarded surrealism", which is meant to be complimentary. If you find this in a bargain bin somewhere, buy it! It's a must-see for any fan of the Killing gang and, like most of their work, it makes you uncertain of whether to laugh or to cry. Either way you'll scratch your head feverishly and be turned off of ravioli for a very long time.
*OOWS = Obese Old Woman Striptease, now excuse me while I find a toilet to converse with.
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