If there is one subject that the film industry adores talking about other than its brilliance, it would be the exploits of the rich and famous, with stories of influential public figures becoming steadily more prominent, especially in works that set out to expose the wretched excess that tends to define the lives of these people. One of the most effective films on the subject released in recent years is Rotten in the Sun, a scathing satire written and directed by Sebastián Silva, who places himself in the central role, playing a fictionalized version of himself, a suicidal filmmaker who gets a new lease on life when he finds himself meeting a popular American social media star who encroaches on his life and sanity to the point where he simply cannot resist forming a connection, despite all of his best efforts. Silva has been working for several years and has made a number of films that are not considered masterpieces in the traditional sense but have amassed cult followings that have allowed the director to take on the title as one of the more unorthodox filmmakers working today, and this film certainly does very little to dissuade us from this belief, with his sardonic sense of humour intermingling with this daring narrative that intends to do nothing other than unsettle and delight in equal measure, which is a fascinating approach for a satire, especially one that is as tinged with despair as this film, creating quite a memorable atmosphere that is both hilarious and repulsive, often at the exact same time. Silva is a gifted filmmaker, the heir apparent to the throne of creative perversion, and it feels like Rotting in the Sun has the most potential to be a breakthrough sensation, especially amongst audiences who have a penchant for dastardly cinematic antics that always leave us at a loss for words, in the best way possible.

As a film, this tends to draw on many emotions, very few of them particularly pleasant, and reconfigures them into a storyline that is grotesque, disturbing and never anything less than thoroughly entertaining, which is precisely why Rotting in the Sun is such a surprising film, especially in how it never quite makes its intentions clear until we are right in the midst of the narrative. The best kind of satire is one that doesn’t let us know what it is about until we are confronted with the facts – there is foreshadowing and direct references to the major twist that sits at the heart of the film, but yet it still comes as a major surprise, which is evidence to Silva’s incredible ability to playfully challenge the audience to overlook certain details and instead just surrender to the madness. The director knows that the best way to grab the audience’s attention is through the element of surprise, and there isn’t a moment in Rotting in the Sun where we can predict what is going to happen next – and while we are likely to have our own opinions on where the film is heading, it is almost certain that there will be some degree of suspense that we can never anticipate, which are the moments where Silva truly takes advantage, manipulating us in ways that would be morally questionable and quite frankly grotesque if it wasn’t done with so much incredible artistry and the desire to actually entertain the viewer, which is precisely what pushes this film forward and makes it such an effective and enthralling piece of cinema, particularly in those moments where it doesn’t necessarily feel that easy to comprehend what it is trying to convey, but still carries quite an intriguing sense of mystery that the director effective harnesses.

There are two kinds of directors who act in their own films – the ones who are genuinely gifted and the ones who have too much of an ego to ever imagine anyone else playing these roles, despite limited talent. In the case of Silva, he intentionally combines both – he is aware that he is not the strongest actor, and there isn’t any discernible reason as to why he had to play this role himself, especially considering he is not recognizable enough to have his name associated with something that audiences would be curious to see based on this performance (the film even references this in a hilarious moment when he searches for himself online), but yet his performance is incredibly striking and brings a level of gravitas to the film that a hired actor would not necessarily able able to capture, which is why it is a surprisingly complex performance. Jordan Firstman also plays a fictionalized version of himself, and he is exceptionally good – considering he has amassed quite a following online as a social media influencer, it’s astonishing that he agreed to this kind of performance, one that is not only potentially damaging to his image in the sense that he is asked to go to places, physically and psychologically, that would be shocking for any individual, but also counterintuitive to the more puritanical nature of the current generation that looks at overt sexuality as something that should be avoided by those with major platforms. If anything, Firstman proves that there is still hope for these so-called influencers when it comes to doing more than just being vapid online, with his performance being unexpectedly brilliant. Finally, the cast is rounded out by Catalina Saavedra, who is absolutely hilarious but also quite heartbreaking as Silva’s long-suffering housekeeper, and while she is supposed to be hilarious, we cannot help but feel deep sympathy for her plight, which forms the centrepiece of the film, which comes as quite a surprise.

There is something truly admirable about a film that is not afraid to be perverse and push the boundaries of not only human decency, but morality as a whole. Silva is not necessarily known for being a controversial filmmaker – his previous work does come across as slightly provocative, and he is undeniably quite daring, but to date he hasn’t quite found himself at the receiving end of any criticism for going too far, which is perhaps what makes Rotting in the Sun such a surprise, since it is coming from someone who wasn’t seen as regularly trying to unsettle the audience. It is still a very accessible film, it just has several questionable elements that keep it from being predictable, which is a terrific asset and one of the many reasons the film feels so thoroughly engaging. Much of this comes in the visceral component – the human body is viewed by Silva as a tool that can be used to tell a story, and he doesn’t have any qualms with taking full advantage of his actors and their willingness to bear it all, both physically and emotionally. Reading the premise cannot prepare you for the scope of the imagery present in this film – somehow he manages to make explicit nudity and sexuality look disturbing despite it all being consensual and never once exploitative, which contrasts with the latter portions of the film where we are presented with a mangled, broken body as the central plot device, the catalyst for the chaos that ensues once the story reaches that narrative peak. To call a director like Silva fearless seems somewhat inappropriate, since there isn’t anything particularly different about what he is doing here on a technical level, but it is his ability to actually tap-dance on the boundary of good taste that makes Rotting in the Sun so incredibly alluring and precise, especially in how it combines so many different ideas under a single narrative, using the most carnal emotions as a tool for social commentary.

There are moments in Rotting in the Sun that feel like exist at the intersection of the imagination of David Lynch and the boundary-pushing perversion of John Waters – and for anyone who has been here for a while, this is the definition of the kind of film that I would find most fascinating, and Silva certainly does not disappoint. It is difficult to tell where his career is heading – over the course of fifteen years, he has directed a number of films, each one distinct and different, and while most would view this as a director struggling to find their voice, it is clearly indicative of the fact that Silve is not someone who wants to settle for any specific kind of style or story, and that he simply makes what he finds fascinating. There are common threads between these films – a sense of subversion, bold satire that is not afraid to be controversial, and the willingness to push boundaries that many would view as being sacrosanct. In the case of this film, he doesn’t only cross the line that separates decency from poor taste, he gleefully leaps over it multiple times, going further than we expect, but not too far to the point where it becomes uncomfortable or too disturbing. This is still an artistically resonant work, and he plays around with genre in a way that is always very funny, creating a film that is a cross between a pitch-black dark comedy and a mystery film, which is not entirely original but still seems quite provocative given the nature of the story being told. Joining a steadily growing canon of films that prove to be merciless satires of the wretched excess of the rich and famous, being relentlessly dark and unsettling but also extremely funny, which is quite an achievement in itself. Rotting in the Sun is not likely to be to everyone’s taste, but for those who have an interest in the dark and absurd, this is undeniably one of the most audacious films of the year, and one that carries so much meaning even at its most bleak and cynical.