“What the f***?”
These are the last words spoken in “Swiss Army Man,” and they just might be the same running through your head—or uttered aloud—upon exiting the theater. For 97 minutes, director duo Daniels (Daniel Scheinert and Dan Kwan) push the limits of gimmickry and visual audacity all in service of, what exactly? Some will say provocation and puerile joy. Others will suggest a meditation on the fragility of human existence. I tend to fall somewhere between those two poles.
Like Tom Hanks’s Chuck Nolan, Robert Redford’s Our Man, and Suraj Sharma’s Pi Patel before him, Paul Dano’s Hank has been stranded amid the vast ocean blue. Unlike those more resolute souls, he gives up on rescue and readies the noose. Daniel Radcliffe’s lifeless body, though, provides an incomparable deus ex machina within five minutes. Hank at first believes that the man washed ashore might actually be alive and deliver him from solitude. Alas, he is as inanimate as Wilson. The body begins shaking uncontrollably. Why? It’s flatulating like the dead man had eaten Burritozilla earlier that afternoon. And it’s the reason why the movie has been unfairly called “the farting corpse movie.” Hank immediately reali
zes that these “emissions” are strong enough for him to ride the body like a jet ski. With that, Hank and the movie both take off to return home through lush forested land.
So, this is just supposed to be a quirky trek, right? Not quite. Eventually the corpse speaks. We learn his name is Manny. Despite wearing a suit, Manny seems to be the least experienced adult ever. He asks questions about the world with the frequency and cadence of the most annoying child on earth. These moments are clearly what Daniels are hoping will amuse the audience at the same time it makes them uncomfortable exploring bodies and social isolation that follows.
I had a copy of Everyone Poops growing up. (Did you? Of course you did. Because, everyone.) Consider that children’s book—mentioned in the movie, natch—the source material for the relationship between Hank and Manny. Just as toddlers experience disgust over what comes out of their bodies and how grown-ups interact with each other, Manny continually recoils from everything his flesh seems to do uncontrollably. Luckily for Hank, an angry tummy meant escape from a desert island. Manny’s member becomes an invaluable compass following extended (pun intended) discussions of onanism. His teeth can split wood and doubles as a razor. His mouth is an actual water well. We are supposed to laugh, but some of these moments are accompanied by a deep sense of shame. We are not only spying on Manny and Hank’s elemental conversations. We are also forced to consider, like Manny, how weird this mortal coil actually is.
Don’t be fooled. If everyone defecates, they also have beating hearts and emotions. Love unsurprisingly is the one tool 
in the Swiss Army collection without which Hank will remain stranded. A fleeting image of a woman on a dying cell phone screen seems to hold the key to Manny’s past life. And it also is (literally) supposed to power the human compass and direct Hank and Manny back to civilization. The less spoiled about this portion of the film, the better.
All of this said, the plot details really are superfluous. They actually serve what I think are the film’s true raison d’être: gonzo editing and trippy imagery the likes of which I haven’t seen in a long time. Daniels are responsible, after all, for one of the zaniest music videos of the current decade. But there is a slightly aggravating break in the technical wall in which the characters intone the main theme just as it swells into the foreground. This and other similar flourishes are sure to get major eye rolls from the already skeptical. Look past this preciousness. Daniels’ chops in storytelling and camerawork are reason enough to see “Swiss Army Man” (at press time, probably from your nearest Redbox).
Notice that I haven’t mentioned any other actors? Hank and Manny take up 90% of the screen’s real estate. And boy do Dano and Radcliffe earn that time. I have rarely been impressed with the former’s style. His facial expressions alone usually kill any sympathy we are supposed to have for his characters. But this movie is all about sympathy. Dano rises to the occasion. He keeps the audience wondering about Hank’s backstory in ways that push the story along. His chemistry with a dead body is (almost) as believable as the seemingly outrageous relationship at the heart of “Her.” He’s just damn funny, too. The star, however, is unquestionably Radcliffe. He brings a comic timing and physicality to his performance that will do more than Equus to erase the memory of The Boy Who Lived. Mileage may vary, but I was sold on Manny as a singular creation.
Are you already asking: “What the f***?” Is it worth subjecting oneself to even an hour and a half of the foregoing? The philosophy seminar that the script reaches for often falls flat and hard. At other times, you might find yourself pushed into strange, unexpected reaches of sentimentality. You, especially the male viewers, surely will confront the beautiful grotesquery of the human form and be forced to consider your own mortality. For all the farts and erections, it’s a tough movie to watch. But it’s rather beautiful.
CLGJr Verdict: Probably a movie best reserved for indie film completists. It’s a wild romp through some weighty themes that mostly hits but sometimes falls prey to overindulgence. Watch it once just to say you have.
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