King Baby is an absolutely thrilling indie allegory about the brittleness of masculinity and authoritarian power. It was a gem from the Cinquest Film Festival that I’m only getting back to now in June as I scan through my notes about this movie. Things that struck me have to do with the costuming and set design: a minimalist bit of magical realism that has pantaloons and thigh high socks standing in for a more ornate and gaudy outfit. And that’s when there are clothes: the film kind of revels in casual nudity, the way that it infantilizes and satirizes the base desires of the King. The script is Mamet-esque, light and airy and improvised.
The absurdist comedy elements get more and more wild as the story develops: the doll play, the hunt, the sex doll, improvised dance sequence, the king’s dreams. The way in which the first night of sex between the King and his wife slowly shifts into horror as the king’s expression changes, encapsulating his mercurial and self-hating nature. The King’s unquenchable thirst for more and more flattery leads to an escalating barber’s tone of unsustainable demands, which leads to a tipping point in the second act.
The script includes some excellent creative swearing. The second act features what could best be described as Saturnalian torture. The servant finally recognizes how little he’s regarded in the performance of his duties by his master-friend. King Baby play is the climax of the movie. When the king-servant in a fit of ethoopoeia insults the servant-king. Kitt and Aran, the writer-directors of this movie are masters of making something big out of something small, and this movie really should get a wider audience.
