That was…something. I cannot recall ever having seen a film quite like Drowning by Numbers, a subversive, sometimes perverse comedy from only the most unconventionally brilliant of auteurs, Peter Greenaway, one of the true cinematic anarchists, who possesses almost chaotically towering talents, as evident by this very odd film that is wholly unapologetic in its bizarre sensibilities, and Greenaway is unflinching in constructing this, a twisted dark comedy that is almost unlike anything I have ever seen before, nor will ever see. It is a tremendously peculiar film, one that is not particularly straightforward to describe, and I believe all attempts to rationalize this film and find out what Greenaway was trying to convey here goes against the intention of the film, and it is better to just embrace Drowning by Numbers for what it is – an unhinged, unpredictable dark comedy that goes beyond any clear logic or reason, and rather devolves into an unsettlingly brilliant film about…something or the other. It is a film that realizes the postmodern theory that human existence is entirely abstract, and there is a perceived overabundance of questions without any definitive answers, and life isn’t about finding these answers, but rather embracing the questions.

In the most straightforward terms, Drowning by Numbers is set somewhere in Britain, perhaps in a quaint, generic countryside hamlet which compensates for its lack of personality with an overabundance of farm animals roaming the streets. Cissie Colpitts (Joan Plowright) drowns her husband in his bath for cheating on her with the sister of a local farmer. Her daughter, Cissie Colpitts (Juliet Stevenson) drowns her husband in the ocean for being a bad lover. Her cousin, Cissie Colpitts (Joely Richardson) drowns her husband in the local swimming pool because she feels the urge to, and because both of her other relatives managed to do so without facing the consequences. The reason they manage to get away with it is because they force the local coroner, Madgett (Bernard Hill) to become involved in their sordid activities, constantly promising him sexual favours for his discretion and assistance in writing these deaths off as drownings caused by natural causes, rather than by the hands of scornful wives. With each subsequent murder, the tensions rise, and Madgett starts to realize that he is less of an alibi to these women, and more of an accomplice to violent killings – the likes of which his son, Smut (Jason Edwards) gleefully records as a result of his peculiar fascination with death. What motivates these women to commit these heinous murders, and what causes Madgett to constantly help them, against his better judgment, forms the backdrop for this film, and while Drowning by Numbers couldn’t be further from a film intent on being more gravely serious in its message, rather than a chaotic, free-form expression of cinematic anarchy, it does prove fascinating insights into Greenaway’s idiosyncratic perception of the human condition, a theme that runs throughout his films, albeit not in the most logical of manners.

The synopsis presented above is an attempt to arrange the complexities of Drowning by Numbers in a way that makes sense, but ultimately, Greenaway is not considered one of the most experimental and original filmmakers to ever work in cinema without a reason. Drowning by Numbers is yet another constituent of his wide-ranging career populated by experimental, unusual films that focus on humanity and its flaws in a way that is mocking but not malicious. Drowning by Numbers is a film that is about, above anything else, playing games. The characters are always engaged in some form of game, with Madgett, in addition to his professional career as a coroner, is the designer of intricate, large-scale games that are almost ominously reminiscent of folk tales, with their superstitious traditions being replicated as trivial games such as “Deadman’s Catch” or “Hangman’s Cricket”, or any of the increasingly-nonsensical games played throughout this film. Greenaway does not intend to make anything resembling a realistic film here, and it is often heightened, both in terms of the surreal story and the unusual visual aesthetic, with many of the situations being curiously absurd – but this is the key to unlocking this film, and perhaps Greenaway in general – he intends to show the more bleakly preposterous nature of existence, and in reducing everything to a game, as he does in this film, he proves the almost nihilist point made by Kurt Vonnegut when he said “I tell you, we are here on Earth to fart around, and don’t let anybody tell you different”

If we consider Drowning by Numbers to be a film that reduces life and human actions to games, then each character in this film is a proverbial player, with this film sometimes being akin to a game of strategy, of which each individual is a single constituent. Drowning by Numbers has a wonderful cast, and they breathe life into this film, all of them giving vibrant, fascinating performances. Dame Joan Plowright has perhaps the finest role of the later-stages career, with Drowning by Numbers allowing her the opportunity to abandon the regal or matronly supporting roles for a complex one. Playing the oldest Cissie Colpitts, Plowright deftly masters nuance, and provides subtlety in ways previously thought impossible – exceptionally calm, and unequivocally brilliant in portraying this character, her performance is endlessly staggering, and only an actress as charming as Plowright could have executed this role with such restraint. Juliet Stevenson is terrific as her daughter, the frustrated housewife approaching her middle-aged years, and angry at the fact that her husband is a terrible lover, while Joely Richardson is an oppositional character, her young, free-spirited cousin who is enjoying the pleasures of being a newly-wed, or at least until the novelty has worn off. The three actresses playing the Colpitt women are exceptional, and their chemistry is remarkable. The final scene of the film is absolutely astonishing, which is only made better by the unhinged dedication to the roles that these actresses have. However, as good as they are, it is Bernard Hill who is truly the heart of the film, playing Madgett, the unmarried coroner forcibly drawn into the schemes of these women, motivated by their manipulative charms and his own bleak loneliness. Hill is tremendous, doing everything necessary to make Madgett both a tragic hero who is the victim of the conniving of others, as well as an eccentric, odd character himself with his own murky motives. It is Hill that is the soul behind this film, which makes the ending to Drowning by Numbers so profoundly strange, with Hill meeting his undeserved comeuppance, purely for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, but also because of his own flaws and poor decisions. It would be amiss to not mention Jason Edwards, who is delightful as Smut, the teenager who is obsessed with death and games (quite an apt set of interests, considering the film the character appears in). One of the clearest merits working in favour of Drowning by Numbers is its cast, and the ensemble is tremendous. The deadpan performances from a talented, dedicated cast elevates Drowning by Numbers and results in something quite magnificent, at least from an acting standpoint.

Greenaway has always been a meticulous filmmaker, and like any great postmodern artist, he draws inspiration from numerous sources, not least the fine arts. Drowning by Numbers is one of the most stunningly-composed films Greenaway has ever made, and his attention to structure is clear throughout. One could use many different terms to describe Drowning by Numbers, but one that sets it apart from other comedies is that it is a symmetrical film, which doubtlessly stems from Greenaway’s scrupulous diligence in composing this film. One of the most fascinating features of this film, one that has been relatively well-recognized, is that its title is not entirely arbitrary – Drowning by Numbers is a film about numbers, and it begins with a young girl skipping rope, and counting the stars, naming one hundred of them, and noting that once you count up to that number, its pointless to carry on – and throughout the following two hours, Greenaway engages in his own counting, with the numbers one to one hundred appearing chronologically, somewhere in the film. This small detail works towards the fact that Drowning by Numbers represents Greenaway’s idiosyncratic sense of structure and symmetry, and it becomes almost fervent the extents to which the filmmaker goes to provide a sense of balance. Everything in Drowning by Numbers is neat and organized, and almost uniform in a very unconventional way. This is exceptionally profound when you consider that this orderly, methodical structure counteracts the story, which is almost anarchic. This is the precise detail that makes Drowning by Numbers such an engrossing film – the presence of patterns and sequences, as well as tidy repetition,  creates such an unflinchingly unique story, and much of the joy that comes from watching this chaotic film is found when the audience is driven to decipher these clues and comprehend the deeper meanings behind this film. It is a film that has profoundly fascinating symbolism lends itself to repeated viewings in order to facilitate the inherent desire to unlock the multitudes of secrets lurking within this film.

I have always found one of the more fascinating hallmarks of postmodernism is the intention to shatter the boundary between the work and the audience, inviting them to be active participants in the artwork itself, challenging them to become involved in whatever the artist is intending to construe. This is very true for Drowning by Numbers, which is an active artistic experience, where the audience partakes in decrypting this film, gathering clues and finding details that are not overtly indicated, but rather hidden in plain sight, lending Drowning by Numbers the enviable characteristic of being a film that could often be revisited by viewers. Greenaway is one of the finest postmodernists of our era, and he certainly aligns himself with the central tenets of the artistic movement, especially the core belief that there is an absence of a grand narrative, anything that could be considered omnipotent, whether it be a belief in a celestial force or adherence to traditional  narrative structure. Drowning by Numbers does not only deconstruct narrative conventions – it unapologetically annihilates them, crafting a manic, outlandish representation of society, one that makes the bold point that nothing actually makes sense. Greenaway dissects traditional modes of storytelling and portrays this outrageous premise through heavily-structured, but still turbulent, methods. I consider Greenaway to be a rambunctiously rebellious filmmaker, and his free-spirited dismissal of cinematic rituals is outstanding and distinctive to his unique brand of storytelling, of which Drowning by Numbers is one of the finest moments.

Postmodernism, above everything else, is about playfulness. This is a detail many who align themselves with the movement tend to forget, and while there are many great postmodern works that deal with serious subject matter through sardonic dark comedy, Drowning by Numbers subscribes more to the school of thought set by Thomas Pynchon and Donald Barthelme, almost mocking itself and never losing sight of its own faults or the flaws that come inherently to any work of fiction, and rather than thinly concealing narrative or structural shortcomings, it celebrates them by exploiting them and portraying them as earnestly charming and inescapably ingrained within the process. Drowning by Numbers is a film that does not take itself too seriously at all, and it consistently retains a sense of playfulness, and it understands that the entire concept of any form of storytelling is quite absurd and abstract, and it embraces this irrationality. Drowning by Numbers is a film about characters playing games – whether actual games or games of manipulation – that eventually devolves into a game itself. The mark of a great postmodernist (or any artist) is the ability to create a work that draws the audience within and makes them actively participate in the work, rather than passively viewing it. Postmodernism arose out of the need to make two changes: to challenge conventions, and to deconstruct the well-demarcated lines between artist and audience, and Greenaway adheres to both of these concepts in Drowning by Numbers, noting the most ardent truth any postmodern scholar is aware of: nothing in life actually makes sense, so why continue trying to rationalize it?

Drowning by Numbers is a puzzling and enigmatic film, but one that goes beyond narrative ingenuity and proves that Greenaway is a filmmaker who has mastered an idiosyncratic style, which he balances with the profoundly fascinating substance imbued in his films. There aren’t many filmmakers as overtly creative as Greenaway, and while his stories are tremendous, his visual flair is also worth noting, because that is eventually what defines his films as being memorable. Drowning by Numbers is filled with astounding imagery, with the cinematography being as pivotal to the film as the cast and the story. Unsurprisingly, Drowning by Numbers was photographed by the extraordinary Sacha Vierny, whose credits need not be mentioned, for fear of leaving out some of his most towering, original achievements. The compositions of shots in Drowning by Numbers is staggering, and nearly every frame is meticulously detailed and delicately constructed, resulting in many moments being akin to paintings rather than a film. Lingering long-shots, economical use of close-ups and renderings of landscapes that could be considered nothing short of bewilderingly artistic make Drowning by Numbers less of a film intent on telling a specific story, and rather a series of tableaux, an abundance of moments painted onto the screen. The visual aesthetic of this film was stunning, and it only supports the postmodern spirit of Drowning by Numbers, with this film blurring the lines between the artistic form in the same way it deconstructs the barriers between the film and its viewers. For every moment of astonishing narrative innovation, there is a moment of visual amazement. Greenaway is not merely a writer and director – he is a cinematic artist in the full definition of the term.

You will never see a film quite like Drowning by Numbers, which is likely the intention around the film and precisely the reason it is a postmodern masterpiece and an essential piece of cinematic rebelliousness. It is a layered, complex film that says something – the problem is, we don’t know quite what. The audience, instead of being presented with any answers, are forced onto this strange journey into games of life and death, made to witness exquisite manipulation and violent crimes in a way that is shocking but never revolting or inappropriate. Drowning by Numbers is a lively and energetic dark comedy, and one that challenges the audience to laugh in the most macabre situations, which is not an easy feat considering that this is a film primarily concerned with grave matters such as murder, yet through the lens of Greenaway’s impressive, surreal vision, it is nothing short of subversive amusement. It is a film about morbid circumstances, but it is undeniably elegant, possessing a truly astonishing wit and a delightfully lighthearted execution that makes Drowning by Numbers a complex but approachable film. Intricate but not impenetrable, Greenaway has crafted a challenging but entertaining film, and an extraordinary comedy that is a definitive representation of postmodernism, retaining the playful deconstruction of conventions and expectations and taking the audience in some unpredictable, wonderfully-peculiar directions. I cannot praise this film enough, and I know one thing for sure: there isn’t anything quite like Drowning by Numbers.