One Paragraph Movie Review: Mondo Cane/A Dog’s Life

One hundred and twelfth film: A Dog’s Life, which is a rough translation of ‘Mondo Cane’, a so-called ‘shockumentary’ from Italy and the first of its genre. I mean. What. Did I. Just watch. It presents itself as a documentary — albeit cheesy and oozing with its 1962-ness — and claims from the outset that it’s absolutely true, but then almost instantly proves that it’s absolutely not. It’s made up of snippets of footage from around the world, illustrating the most bizarre cultural corners of each continent, but doesn’t even pretend that most of it isn’t bullshit. I saw pigs being suckled by humans, American retirees doing a barefoot hula, scores of female lifeguards performing resuscitation drills in Manly, tribeswomen being force-fed tapioca to fatten them up for their emaciated chieftain, blokes being gored by a distressed bull, and an Italian film star being mobbed shirtless in a department store. And eighty percent of it is just dead flat made up. And I loved it. LOVED IT. Even though it’s terrible and confusing and racist and sexist and shocking and gruesome and unbelievably obsessed with boobs. It’s the worst thing I’ve seen in a long time, and I loved it. I want to watch it again with other people, but just looking at their faces. Four freshly-baked bright blue baby chickens out of five.