'Problemista': Uneven satire pairs a frustrating man with an aggravating woman

To say “Problemista” is not for everyone isn’t really a negative. My guess is that writer/director/star Julio Torres would readily agree with such an assessment, given how heavily this admirably bold but uneven satire leans into the Surrealist Film Playbook, from the production design that recalls the works of Wes Anderson and Terry Gilliam and Michel Gondry, to the casting of Tilda Swinton as an absolute nightmare of a human being, to the frequent use of fantasy sequences to illustrate the plight of our hapless lead character.

There’s no denying that Torres (a former writer on “Saturday Night Live” and the co-creator of the HBO series “Los Espookys”) is a unique talent; it’s just that his first feature film, while featuring some clever ideas, has a repetitive nature that grows more irksome as we go along, and the humor dissipates into heavy-handed social commentary.

With Isabella Rossellini providing the voice-overs as if she’s narrating a fairy tale, “Problemista” is the story of Torres’ Alejandro, aka “Ale,” who is from El Salvador (as is the filmmaker) and has moved to New York City to pursue his very specific dream to become a toy designer — although his ideas are merely eccentric takes on existing classics and they’re kind of sad and uninspired, e.g., a Slinky that won’t go down the stairs, a Barbie with her fingers crossed behind her back and Cabbage Patch Dolls who have little smart phones. This seems like more of an idea for an installation art project than a career, but there you have it. Ale is a sincere and likable young fellow, but he’s also somewhat clueless and something of a passive observer of his own life.

Ale has a low-level job at a sketchy company called FreezeCorp that places individuals in a cryogenic sleep with the promise that they’ll wake you up sometime in the future, when the tech and the science and the medical advances allow it. (Good luck with that!) When Ale gets fired after accidentally pulling the plug on a cryogenic pod, he’s in danger of losing his temporary visa and could be sent home if he doesn’t find gainful employment and a sponsor, fast.

Enter Tilda Swinton’s Elizabeth, who has fright-wig, magenta-colored hair and garish makeup that looks like it was applied in the dark and is the loudest, most abrasive and most obnoxious person in any room, any UNIVERSE, she enters. (The temptation would be to call Elizabeth a “Karen,” but she’s not racist; she’s an equal opportunity terrible person.)

Elizabeth’s husband Bobby (RZA), seen in flashbacks, is a FreezeCorp client, and Elizabeth is obsessed with finding an art gallery that will show Bobby’s 13 paintings of eggs — and with finding someone who can operate FileMaker Pro and help curate Bobby’s work. When Elizabeth offers Ale the opportunity to work for her as an unpaid assistant, with the promise of employment and sponsorship for that visa if things pan out, he takes it. Why anyone would volunteer to spend any time in the presence of a woman who is constantly screaming at people while telling them not to scream at her (which they aren’t doing), even someone in a pickle, is beyond understanding, but there you have it.

Torres the writer/director indulges in a myriad of fantasy-world flourishes to illustrate Ale’s trials and tribulations, from Ale climbing through an endless series of tiny rooms to the depiction of Craigslist as a mad genie (played by Larry Owens) in some sort of parallel dimension to Elizabeth as a hydra tormenting him in a cave. “Problemista” makes some valid points about our utterly chaotic and bureaucratically cruel and maddeningly labyrinthine immigration system; we feel for Ale and his plight, and we’re moved by his frequent phone conversations with his supportive mother (Catalina Saavedra) who is back home in El Salvador.

Still, we’re also frustrated with Ale, who slumps around the city with his backpack weighing him down and lets the world push him around every day. (A scene in which Ale asserts himself in dramatic fashion should make for a triumphant moment for the underdog, but it’s only marginally effective and doesn’t feel authentic.)

Then there’s the Elizabeth problem. Tilda Swinton is an international treasure and has created some of the most memorably and wonderfully offbeat characters of her generation, but Elizabeth is such a one-note boor that every time she appears on screen, we envy her husband and the sweet relief of freeze-dried limbo. At least in that state, one is immune to Elizabeth’s screeching. We should all be so lucky.