Wrong Place, Wrong Time, Wrong Cops

Quentin Dupieux's third movie is a fragmented day in the life of some of Los Angeles' finest who seem to not to have a lot to do on their beat. In takes almost ever situation you might have read about police getting into (selling drugs, shooting innocent, sleeping on to job, asking for sexual favors or creating terrible techno music) and stuffs it into one film. This is not Super Troopers so there is no convoluted backstory or plot what so ever. There is no explanation to any of the cops' antics. Dupieux seems to still like fucking with his audience, daring them to walk out or stick around and see if there is a payoff. He doesn't seem to care if you are lost, flustered or upset by the upside down-ness he likes to bring to all his work. It is crafted that way. And this is why all his films are MMN worthy.

If you need to test any of your friendships, invite a bunch of them to watch Rubber, Wrong and Wrong Cops with a group of friends and a few grams of weed one evening. Assess who is there by the end of the evening. I'm not responsible for the outcome as I am not a behaviorist, but you’ll see who has some film fortitude.