Like a stubborn toddler zipping his mouth shut while stomping his feet, “Hippo” manages to be noisily aggravating while saying nothing at all. Directed by Mark H. Rapaport in his feature debut, the indie film traffics in cynicism and irreverence while lacking in the quality it seems to want most: individuality.
Shot in black and white and set in ’90s suburbia, the movie follows Hippo (Kimball Farley), a demanding teenager who lives at home with his mother (Eliza Roberts) and subdued stepsister, Buttercup (Lilla Kizlinger). The siblings are experiencing dual sexual awakenings, and a narrator (voiced by Eric Roberts) walks us through a multitude of stylized scenes in which the pair investigate their desires while pondering their greater purposes in life.
Soon, and rather randomly, they each land on one. For Hippo, it is to protect the homestead from a variety of perceived threats. For Buttercup, it is to become pregnant.
The story, then, is one of gendered stereotypes: Hippo, the chauvinist fixated on violence; and Buttercup, the virginal naïf longing to be with child. She is also in love with Hippo. What does she see in him? The film does not trouble itself to let us know, which is surprising given the sheer volume of narration overlaying shots of Buttercup lounging with a faraway look.
“Hippo” is meant to be a comedy — a dark, muted one with a couple of rowdy set pieces. And although Roberts, channeling frivolity, does score some funny lines, the movie most often reads as a hollow exercise in mannered filmmaking, orbiting an array of characters whose carefully curated quirks are flimsy enough to blow away with the wind.
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