Out of the World is about a taxi driver/serial killer who falls in love with a deaf dancer. Now, there are so many tropes in that description I can feel you shrinking back. I’ll be honest, I shouldn’t like this film. It’s one in a long line of sympathetic looks at poor misunderstood outsider men who do terrible, terrible things to women.
But I do. I do like it. It was its own rhythm, its own style, it is visually stunning. It is even beautiful. And while the female lead is contending with a very problematic framework, the choreography just lifts her out the scenes, giving a whole physical language to her performance. I loved the score and the way it was shot, like the outside world is just paint running down the wall, and the people in it just smears on your vision. Out of the World is dreamlike, occasionally descending into nightmare.
There is a floating quality to the film to match the protagonist’s disconnection, and a hallucinatory element to match his psychosis. As both he and the dancer begin to wordlessly draw together, the whole thing becomes a nightmarish ballet.