Unlike, Defunct where the protagonist is a middle-class man facing the brunt of economic hardship, Not to be Unpleasant, But We Need to Have a Serious Talk, directed by George Georgopoulos, (henceforth, cited as ‘Unpleasant’), deals with a businessman who is financially successful, yet still struggles with disaffection and the dislocation of identity that are incisively connected to his impetuous sexual endeavors. The film begins with the character of Aris (More on the name within The Rocket) a successful yet dissatisfied business executive who discovers he has been diagnosed with a viral disease that kills women via intercourse, with men only acting as the virus’ carrier. What ensues is an episodic journey across Greece, tracking down his past lovers and reckoning with his past choices. As Aris checks off his list of his previous sexual capers, the apathetic character, reckons with his true love, Yuki, and that he has been involved with a wife of his own, as well as infant daughter the entire time. Critics would surely consider Unpleasant as a good candidate for the hybrid of genres of post-crisis Greek cinema, coined the "Greek Weird New-Wave"; these films are branded with the conventions of the failing family dynamic, as well as surrealistic tropes, alienated protagonists, and absurdist themes (Okada). And while Unpleasant is most definitely the most absurd and surreal out of the three films discussed in this blog, it fits well into our definition of a ‘post-modern’ film built upon existential solicitation and social dislocation and therefore reflects the hypernormal state of Greece. One point in the film towards the beginning that sets up these themes comes after Aris finds out he is a carrier for the disease and embarks on a quest around Greece to find his previous lovers; what follows is a quick scene of aftermath where Aris waters a bonsai tree, the singular token he still carries from his golden days with Yuki and his 'weird' travel companion, smash-cutting into his work-space where his boss, played by the renowned Vangelis Mourikis, recites him his poetry-- a clear comedic and ungainly moment, yet also layered with some of the films existential-absurdist themes: “The whole nature in turmoil. Suddenly, two shadows I see. The one is bloodstained. I open window and shout out loud: ‘What’s going on?’ The one is smiling at me. The other is sad and in sorrow. ‘Dear friend’, they say as one, their voice a little hollow, ‘from the battlefront we do return, defeated with no tomorrow’” (00:16:18).
Intercut with these defeatists and dirge-like stanzas are a trove of businessmen riding on segways in these static long shots, and almost awkward demeanor of the camera-- the montage itself expresses the solicitation within the mind of the character, and the mind of the hypernormal Greek state as expressed in the tumultuous and “bloodstained” references within the poem. The businessmen stroll along the decrepit urban landscape alongside the interstice of a dry thicket and rusted chain-link fence, and a graffitied wall, which brings to mind Jeff Ferrell's comment on urban graffiti, quoted in Fotiou and Fessas' article: “Collective graffiti note only confronts and resists existing arrangements but constructs alternative social, cultural, and economic arrangements as well” (Ferrell). The surreal image of these segwaying stolid businessmen calls for a meta-awakening for the audience, demarcated as separate from the story itself, thereby acting as a device solely contributing to the themes of dislocation and socio-economic angst. And because Aris’ boss notes the “whole nature” is within “turmoil” reminds the viewer the “whole nature” represents Aris’ life, which in turn, reflects the confused and awkward state of modern Greece, reeling with their post-modern malady. With this poem setting up the theme of the narrative, Aris then commences on his journey to find and reconcile with his previous lovers of whom range in characterization, singularly contribute to the sullen and downtrodden environment; in no moment is this more apparent in Aris’ reckoning with Eugenia (a judge for a body-building competition of tanned muscular men). After discovering his work subordinate is involved with this Eugenia, Aris interjects himself before they make love. What ensues is Aris’ second confession atop a dimly lit poolside terrace and a heart-to-heart moment between the old lovers through a ‘last-dance’. After Aris leaves, Eugenia jumps off the terrace and kills herself landing on her sleek black luxury car (00:42:23). Eugenia’s suicide can be seen as an allusion to the recent surge of suicides in Greece during the financial crisis, that reached an increase of forty percent (Bastea). Eugenia’s suicide and Aris’ empty promises bring to focus the earlier comment of “Getting on with her life” (00:42:43) as a calling to the theme of existential dread and fear for the future, as quite bluntly, she is directly aware of her impending death, similar to the attitude of impending doom of Greece’s late-capitalist system. As Yurack would put it, the ‘hypnernormal’ state of Greece has established a norm of coddling and empty optimism that painted every corner of life for the citizens, both Eugenia and Aris are fully aware that their lives are forever changed and tarnished from the disease, much like the disaffected population of twenty-first century Greece.
After three episodic escapes involving a co-worker love interest on her wedding day (and her irascible husband), his boss' teenage daughter, and a red-blooded dog trainer, Aris barely escapes with this life, which finally brings him to Yuki, the woman with whom he shares the biggest emotional scar, revealing that he abandoned her in Osaka after promising to return. Aris’ obsession with Japanese and his promise to return to Japan probably reflects the Greek youth’s longing to leave and seek opportunity in a more developed and thriving country, similar to Aris’ (of Defunct) wishes to relocate to Milan or London; and the migration trend from Greece is seen in the empirical data of young people leaving Greece in enormous numbers, as pointed out by CNBC journalist Silvia Amaro to be 34,000 young people between the ages of 20 and 29 in the year 2016, which is without coincidence linked to the high unemployment rate among 15 to 24 year olds standing at a stark 43.6 percent, unlike the low 18.8 percent within the eurozone (Amaro), obviously indicative of the failing socio-economic systems and institution of the state.
Aris (Unpleasant) finds that Yuki tested negative, the only one of his previous lovers safeguarded from Aris’ baleful virus, and if one were to interpret the virus as a metaphor for some type of amalgamation of Greek’s forlorn socio-economic qualities, it would make perfect sense as to why Yuki would be exempt from this infection-- given she is from East Asia, a region quite commonly known as a bustling economic cornerstone of the globalized world. The ending image of the film is a surreal shot of Yuki’s bonsai tree that Aris had been carrying with him his entire journey now upscaled to epic and colossal proportions, which not only hints toward a vestige of optimism and potentiality now that he has accomplished his goal of making amends with all of his previous lovers, but (like the bittersweet and ambiguous ending of Defunct) still lives within a state of disarray, calling back to his boss’s poem he recited during the second poem recital, and what one may see as the midpoint of the film, saying “On life’s crossing… a young man… rugged and pensive...With hazy eyes, he looks at me and says: ‘Please, tell me, my friend’. ‘Who am I and where am I going to?’. And I answer to him… ‘Please, my friend you tell me… Who I am and where I’m going to” (00:52:52). Both the characters in Defunct and Unpleasant wish to relocate and restart their lives for a chance at a happier and brighter future, but as the poem suggests, the protagonists, like the young people of Greece, have no definite or stable future, reminding the viewer of the first poem that they are “defeated with no tomorrow”, emphasizing the hypernormal condition of the characters and the sharp anxiety and dislocation they carry on their shoulders.