L'iceberg

Three Belgian clowns wrote and directed this sly, winsome tale of one woman's quest for her destiny in the polar seas after an absurd but life-altering accident reveals the emptiness of her mundane, middle-class life.

The Iceberg is a riot, a quintessential French comedy with an improbable plot and an unbelievable cast of characters.

Gordon and Abel (who delivers one of the longest yawns in screen history) are howls as husband and wife. Their long, lean buddies seem custom-made for slapstick humor. Keaton would approve.

Not every sight gag works, and there's a brief stretch in the middle where the action becomes landlocked. But once we're out to sea the movie goes swimmingly--its three protagonists fighting, flailing, and often on the verge of drowning as their tiny skiff surges toward the land of the Inuit.

Its simultaneously silly and grave tone finds humor in the characters' delusions and obsessions while celebrating their uniqueness.

A brave but doomed attempt to revive the art of pure physical comedy, the willfully eccentric, practically dialogue-free, Iceberg sets itself a high standard with an opening 15 minutes of the most delicious slapstick, but thereafter only a few moments of gentle surrealism and the occasional poetic image justify the ride, with only 10% of the pic's potential laughs evident above the surface.

This one deserves to go back in the refrigerator – preferably to the very back of the refrigerator!