Liza, the Fox-Fairy (2015)

This rivals Son of Saul for the year's most popular Hungarian film. I don't think I ever saw one before. But in light of (heh) its dark comedy status, I might have skipped it at a European Union showcase anyway, if not for a Meetup invitation and my dad's interest.

The setting is a fictional variant of 1970s Budapest, for reasons still not clear to me. On the surface, the story could take place almost anywhere and at any time. Liza (with a long E sound for the I) starts out as a nurse for a Japanese ambassador's widow, both of them fond of the music of dead J-pop singer Tomy Tani. Liza actually sees an ethereal Tomy before her, mistaking him for an imaginary friend while the on-and-off narrator identifies him as a ghost. More importantly, he's a sort of grim reaper, taking the shape of whatever his victim desires. You don't want someone like that to develop a crush on you.

Sure enough, in his jealousy, Tomy takes to bumping off not just the widow he came for but every man who looks at Liza the wrong way -- and despite her humble situation, she can turn a lot of heads with a little effort. The series of suspicious "accidents" leads Liza to believe that she is a fox-fairy out of Japanese folklore, doomed to lead men to their deaths until she commits suicide. It also catches the attention of the police, but despite their banana republic-style uniforms, they decide not to lock her up yet. One of them, Sgt. Zoltan, is assigned to keep an eye on her but secretly goes above and beyond the call of duty in helping her out. He is prone to injury, yet Tomy seems incapable of taking him out of the equation. Could he be the key to breaking Liza's curse?

You may well call it a fairy tale. As such, the plot is a tad predictable, but it still springs some surprises on us. When darkness and humor mix, you can't be sure of a happy ending. Heck, the most memorable Eastern European movie I'd seen before was Underground (1995), lauded for its hilarity but chock full of major character deaths, few of them played for laughs.

Here the apparent main source of humor lies in personality quirks. While Tomy's victims may not "deserve" to die, the ones we get to know all have something about them that makes them unpromising for enriching Liza's life. Disgusting things, mostly, like perversion. We also feel limited pity for Zoltan after his oddball introduction. The chief of police steals his scenes by flaking midway through common sayings and ending with swears. Even Liza has unusual taste, romanticizing meals at a McDonald's/Burger King knockoff.

Other gags involve the movie's presentation, as when the narrator says early on, "Wait, this is stupid," and backs up. Or when a moving 3D opening credit censors Liza in the shower. On that point, I should mention the frequent use of CG: Its visual quality is about on par with a modern U.S. TV commercial -- and that's fine, not just for Hungary but for a comic fantasy. Really, presentation may be the best thing LtF-F has going for it; director Károly Ujj Mészáros knows how to fill the screen and keep a good pace.

By the way, Mészáros came to the theater to talk and answer questions. He explained in advance a couple of jokes that get lost in translation; it's nice to know there weren't more. He denied any inspiration by The Grand Budapest Hotel, citing incompatible timing, but confirmed my suspicion that Zoltan's bandages were meant to resemble the flag of Japan. Mészáros seems just as funny in person.

The majority of the audience evidently liked LtF-F better than I did, to be honest. A film this eccentric can be hard to evaluate; as a rule, I default to an average rating. But it should keep your mind occupied for quite a while at least.