Strawberry Mansion review

A defeated-looking businessman (co-writer and co-director Kentucker Audley) sits in a Pepto Bismol-pink house, full of pink utensils and pink food, nothing real except his despair and a bucket of fried chicken wings that his “Buddy” (Linas Phillips) enthusiastically hawks to him. “Juicy and delicious!” Buddy says before biting into the chicken, smacking his lips obscenely and violently.

It’s a strikingly surreal image that sets the stage for Strawberry Mansion, an ambitious outing from directing duo Albert Birney and Kentucker Audley that aspires to be a candy-colored retrofuturistic fever dream, but ends up to be something more along the lines of a wax museum of wasted ideas.

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