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This movie left me, at the very least, destabilized. I started watching it with absolutely no idea what it was about (I hadn’t even read the synopsis) and was completely caught off guard. As the story progressed, and I followed the protagonist while piecing together the subtle clues about what was happening, I felt more and more anguished and intrigued. It’s a kind of sensation that, in my experience, only this movie is capable of delivering. The strangeness of the utopian behavior of all the characters, combined with the sporadic but deeply morbid humor—be it from the residents of that support house (which I didn’t fully understand), the fugitives, or even the few living animals that appeared on screen—everything was so odd and unsettling. It felt as if everyone had a particularly sharp stone in their shoe or their underwear perpetually riding up. So uncomfortable and stiff that it made me feel uncomfortable and stiff, even though I was comfortably seated on my couch with my clothes in their proper place. And I know this behavior is intentional in the movie, and it makes so much sense that, at some point, it stops being strange and becomes acceptable within that bubble. The Lobster has a unique premise, in my opinion, a curious execution, and a discomfort that will take a long time for me to forget every time this movie comes to mind.
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