The different countries face off in a sort of pre-American Idol, and each round’s winner slides down a chute into a beer-filled vat, as envious Prohibited Americans listen on in envy. The baroness chooses the winners, and eventually gets a pair of glass legs from Fyodor, filled with beer. The highlight of the film is when a high note by one of the acts causes the beer-filled glass to crack, and the baroness falls to the ground. If that sounds absurd, so is the whole film.

Naturally, things turn out unexpectedly, and the father and Chester, and possibly the baroness, all die (some via murder), while Roderick and Narcissa are reunited (guess why?). This is one of the few films I’ve reviewed where discussing the end will severely affect the opinions of the film, so suffice to say that the ending is very unexpected, but for its simplicity after a very convoluted plot.

The DVD shows the film in a 1.85:1 aspect ratio, has an interesting featurette called Teardrops In The Snow: The Making Of The Saddest Music In The World. We learn quite a bit about the film and Maddin’s methods, as well as a bit of the story, in the second featurette, The Saddest Characters In The World: The Cast Of The Saddest Music In The World. There is also a theatrical trailer and three short films from early in Maddin’s career. None are particularly notable, save for the one where a bunch of semi-naked homo-erotic muscle men do nothing but slap each other. While gay men may be yanking their cranks over the very idea, the rest of us can do naught but yawn.

Overall, The Saddest Music In The World is one of those films that I am loath to comment too harshly on. This is because while it fails, overall, as a film, one cannot help but admire the daring and vision of a director like Maddin. After all, in this dumbed down cookie cutter world of film put forth by megabucks Hollywood schlockmeisters like Steven Spielberg, Peter Jackson, and George Lucas, Maddin can easily and rightly be seen as a hero to art house, indie film lovers.

However, none of that concerns me as a critic. So, I have to say that, despite some razzle-dazzle, and the best of intentions, The Saddest Music In The World ultimately is not a good film. No, it’s not a bad film, but one has to wonder what it might have been if the original Ishiguro screenplay had been more faithfully followed. Perhaps then it might have had some of the depth and real inquisitive power that great art has. As it is, it is merely a curio. But, occasionally, them things can be damned flashy, can’t they?