The Last Circus

Most people are amused by clowns, with their array of colorful outfits and kid-friendly gags. But the same qualities that thrill some tend to scare away others.

Perhaps Alex de la Iglesia falls in the latter category. The Spanish filmmaker turns circus clowns into demented killers in The Last Circus, an ambitious but wildly uneven revenge saga that certainly won’t appeal to all tastes.

Maybe the writer-director is simply trying to pinpoint what lies behind the mask. His clowns are lonely and desperate souls whose frustration leads to sinister and twisted acts of violence.

The film opens in 1937, when a “happy clown” is recruited during a performance to serve in the Spanish Civil War, proceeding to tear down a rebel platoon with a machete. Then it spins forward to Madrid in 1973, when the Franco regime is winding down and the clown’s son, Javier (Carlos Areces), is trying to follow in his father’s footsteps.

But Javier is relegated to the role of the “sad clown” because he has lived a life marked by tragedy. He begins a clandestine affair with an acrobat (Carolina Bang) trying to escape an abusive relationship with her husband, Sergio (Antonio de la Torre), who happens to play the happy clown in the act with Javier. So the clowns begin a real-life rivalry for her affections.

De la Iglesia (The Oxford Murders) seems to enjoy contrasting the lighthearted circus environment with bursts of extreme violence. Almost every scene — and every element within each scene — tends to be absurd and over-the-top, from the music to the sets and costumes to, of course, the makeup. In the filmmaker’s world, everything is exaggerated, from the washed-out colors to the warped sense of right and wrong among the characters.

De la Iglesia’s stamp is on every frame, and The Last Circus certainly has audacity and visual flair, which is enough to keep it intriguing for the first half. Then it bogs down in heavy-handed symbolism about Franco-era politics and a romantic triangle that’s appropriately bizarre but doesn’t resonate emotionally.

At least the director stays true to his vision. The finished product resembles something of a grostesque freak show, which probably suits fans of the filmmaker just fine.

Rated R, 107 minutes.