review by Joanne
Yamaguchi and Gus Calabrese
at the 2000 Toronto International Film Festival
Luda IS good at it. The viewer does not
know whether to laugh or to cry about this. And Nik is NOT good at it, at
least according to the bunny corporation rules. Nik is too honest about
his own troubles and depression. Bunnies can't afford such self-indulgence.
Luda's steely survival instinct takes on ghoulish traces as she plots a
bunny path for herself away from Nik.
Mia Trachinger's first feature
comes as a surprise from a native of L.A. The absorption in Nik and Luda is
so complete that Bunny initially seems like a film from Eastern Europe. As
refugees who have fled to America from Eastern Euro, Nik and Luda must find
work. Their special skills are useless to them in America. They find jobs
as bunnies who hop in place on street corners to offer bunny sympathy to passersby
in need of comfort. The viewer does not know whether to laugh or cry as Nik
tries to persuade Luda that being bunnies is not their destiny in America.
Luda reacts angrily, defensively, "I like my job. And I'm good at it."
The concept must be seen and felt to get the full
effect of adult-size people hopping and hovering in place in bunny-like
fashion. Pet a large bunny. Tell it your problems. It will listen sympathecially,
patiently. A carthasis does take place! (Unless it's Nik - then the bunny
might talk back and tell you his troubles!)
On the streets of Toronto we spied a
bunny, felt drawn to go to it and to pet it. It was the Bunny film distribution
and publicity team during TIFF. The pink bunny costumes with large floppy
ears is at first utterly laughable. Soon, however, one ceases laughing. Something
serious is going on here. Something DOES happen when you pet a human-adult-size
bunny and it listens to your wailing and confidences.
Perhaps it's time for a Bunny revolution in America!