OPENING with an absurd and engaging dystopian future, Yorgos Lanthimos’ The Lobster quietly reverts back to a dull attempt at dark romantic comedy. Over the film’s 1h 59m run time it slowly loses grasp on its message and sense of wonder. By the end, what was once boldly satirical turned rather tired and lackluster. Lanthimos quickly runs out of points to make, and not even his pristine cinematography can pull him through.
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Following David from the moment he checks into the hotel, we watch him struggle to find a companion. Under normal circumstances this would elicit minor sympathy, but here if he cannot find a suitable partner in time the hotel will turn him into the titular lobster. All loners in this dystopian future face transformation if caught by the guests of the hotel.
Unfortunately, this intriguing world-building does not go anywhere. Besides showing a few animals who supposedly had prior lives, The Lobster shoos away its own backdrop to instead focus on the social commentary presented throughout the film.
The Lobster’s hotel serves as a stand-in for society’s pressure to find a romantic partner no matter the cost or compromise. The Limping Man must self-harm in order to date the Nosebleed Woman, and David becomes someone he’s not to involve himself with the Heartless Woman. With everyone so indebted to their “defining traits”, at least one person in every relationship is sacrificing due to them feeling as if their time to find another is running out. Societal pressures do not truly care if two people are compatible, and if you succumb to the coercion you sacrifice your own identity.
These themes coupled with Lanthimos’ excellent shot composition and framing seem poised to create a compelling final product, one to rival The Favourite (a favorite), but they get lost somewhere in the middle. The Lobster repeats the same idea of forced compromise over and over without any alterations. When Lanthimos goes for his trademarked abrupt and ambiguous ending, it comes across as oddly subdued. In place of an, “Oh my gosh I can’t believe he ended it there…brilliant!” was a, “Yeah okay…I guess he can end it there…seems kind of obvious though.” While thought provoking and open to different interpretations (perhaps revealing something about you and your own partner), it fails to make a new statement. If you chop off the final scene, The Lobster does not lose any of its messages, and regrettably not because it had an abundance to begin with.
The Lobster’s appeal after the first half hour or so quickly dissipates once Lanthimos refuses to expand on his world or theme. An engrossing dystopian backdrop and camera skill can only take a film so far, and this attempt feels underdeveloped and incomplete. After the first act The Lobster has said all it wants to say, and then just hangs around for a while. As the credits roll you can’t help but feel like a guest at the hotel, weary and uninterested.
