Rosebush Pruning

The Catalonia coast in southeastern Spain has rarely looked as alluring on screen as in Rosebush Pruning. It’s too bad the humans are always blocking the scenery.

Overwhelmed by eccentricities, this visually extravagant yet narratively uneven satire of affluence and entitlement from Brazilian filmmaker Karim Ainouz (Firebrand) offers a mildly intriguing probe of masculinity, grief, and dysfunctional family dynamics through the eyes of perverse and self-absorbed American schemers.

The story is narrated by Ed (Callum Turner), an amateur botanist and aspiring voice actor who moved from New York six years ago with his aristocratic family as a dream destination of their matriarch (Pamela Anderson).

She’s since died under mysterious circumstances, leaving everyone else adrift. “We were all lazy, mediocre, vapid egotists,” Ed explains, while singling out his older brother, Jack (Jamie Bell) as the exception.

Jack brings his new girlfriend, Martha (Elle Fanning) to the lavish cliffside home he shares with Ed, their blind father (Tracy Letts), sister (Riley Keough), and younger brother (Lukas Gage). They claim to love one another, but everything they do and say suggests the opposite.

Meanwhile, Jack and Martha hit a rough patch that’s only marginally related to the grilling over her appearance and preferred upscale fashion brands during an introductory dinner peppered with sexually inappropriate remarks.

Her presence causes lingering jealousies and hostilities to bubble to the surface, to the extent that some sort of violent outcome feels inevitable.

The performances are solid even if the characters are aggressively unsympathetic, and the borderline incestuous nature of their lewd conversations elicits an obvious and intentional discomfort.

The screenplay by Efthimis Filippou (The Lobster) — a frequent Yorgos Lanthimos collaborator in this case reimagining a 1965 Italian film — throws a steady barrage of acerbic deadpan barbs at its hapless subjects.

However, while we can make fun of how absurdly pretentious or obnoxiously petty they all are, there’s no underlying relatability or emotional grounding within their relationships. Blaming their behavior entirely on bereavement seems a bit outrageous.

Mixing in elements of tragic fantasy without sufficiently softening the caustic edges, Rosebush Pruning isn’t as provocative as intended, eagerly diving into its relentless depravity without finding a way out.

Not rated, 95 minutes.