It’s been a while since we’ve seen filmmaker Michel Gondry in what we’d call “full Gondry” mode. After his amazing breakthrough, the endearing romantic tragicomedy Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, he’s made attempts at cult/commercial appeal (Be Kind, Rewind), mainstream blockbusting (the grossly underrated Green Hornet) and a few reasonable reminders of his eccentric penchant (The Science of Sleep,The We and the I).
There have even been a few fascinating documentaries (The Thorn in the Heart, Is the Man Who Is Tall Happy?) thrown in for good measure. Now, the undeniable visualist is back with an adaptation of Boris Vian’s highly experimental 1947 novel Froth of the Daydream (here retitled Mood Indigo). Telling a simplistic tale in a highly surrealistic manner, it would seem right up Gondry’s style over substance alley. And it is. Magnificently so.