The
thing about love is that there’s too much that our limited language prevents us
from truly expressing, so it’s fortunate that there exist artists who are able
to convey the tangled emotions that mere words can’t. If you’ve ever seen any
of animator Bill Plympton’s award-winning work, you know that he rarely relies
on dialogue anyway. It should come as no shock that his latest feature-length
piece manages to weave its reliably trippy, wordless magic through affairs of
the heart. Inspired by the cuckoldry pulp of James M. Cain, the often
eye-popping “Cheatin'” tells the alternately forlorn and funny tale of a
seemingly blissful relationship put to the test when an envious third party
tries to tear it down.
Meeting the starry-eyed way so many
of us do — during a rescue from possible electrocution on the bumper cars at a
carnival — the instantly smitten Jake and Ella appear to enjoy a loving, lusty
relationship, with gas-station attendant Jake constantly staving off the
advances of women drawn to his Plympton-esque 12-pack abs. But when one
conniving dame arranges to throw some doubt into his mind, the despondent Jake
begins setting up regular appointments at the seedy EZ Motel with a cavalcade
of conquests. Cue Ella’s confusion, an inept murder attempt, and a
serendipitous meeting with El Merto and his Trans Soul Machine, and “Cheatin'” unfolds
as a frenetic series of miscommunications and misunderstandings. Add a few buckets
of Jake’s sloshy, shapeshifting tears, and you’ve got this film’s version of
true love.
Plympton seems to enjoy that rare
blend of fame and freedom, creating work popular and acclaimed but still a
little too surreal for the studio system and answering only to himself.
“Cheatin'” might be Plympton’s most sophisticated film to date, both in terms
of subject matter (sex! nudity!) and imagery that careens between silly and swooning,
fluidly rendered with elegant grotesquery and artfully deployed opera. The
illustration of Ella’s heart gradually opening up is divine, and Jake’s botched
attempt to end it all is pure Goldbergian slapstick. If there’s a quibble here,
it’s with the mid-century gender relations, as Ella reacts to the wildly
unfaithful Jake in mildly degrading ways rather than either of them overtly
addressing an obviously important subject. Fortunately, Plympton’s trancelike
pastels and pencils never disappoint.
This article appears in May 6-12, 2015.
