Suppose bunnies are not at the top of your interests, besides finding them cute. In that case, a piece of bunnies’ trivia that you will discover in writer-director Katarina Zhu’s “Bunnylovr” her debut feature, might break your heart. It turns out that when bunnies are put under a lot of stress, or experience a sudden jolt of fear, they enter a phenomenon called shock Their soft bodies become flaccid, their floppy ears turn cold, and without treatment, they can die from it.
There is no worrying about gruesome bunny deaths that are not in Zhu’s delicate, yet slight, portrait of a New York-based Chinese American cam-girl, Rebecca, tenderly portrayed by Zhu herself. Existential dreads and visceral gusts of panic are however symbolically everywhere in the film as Rebecca haphazardly shuffles her way through a dead-end day personal assistant job and later dons the persona of an online sex worker at night. In subtle ways, these anxieties manifest themselves through the sense of confinement and loneliness that Rebecca seems to be engulfed in. The reality that Zhu, along with her cinematographer Daisy Zhou, captures in airless, claustrophobic frames.
One could argue that Zhu’s close camerawork in “Bunnylovr” is somewhat unnecessary, as the character’s physical and psychological spaces make us grasp the isolation quite effortlessly. However, the close-ups do heighten when she meets the enigmatic John, who slips chatty $500 for a session or two. Sooner or later, he becomes adamant about sending her a gift. It shall make you less lonely, he claims. You will take care of it.
Now, the bunny Rebecca received in the post and renamed Milk, a lucky keepsake, is the scoop featured in the film’s title. Although she manages to keep her life together, she initially argues that her situation prevents her from caring for a pet. Though contested, this time she doesn’t try hard enough to decline the present. After all, maybe a tad less loneliness wouldn’t be so bad.
And just how hard could it be to care for an adorable bunny? Meanwhile, Rebecca spends her free time oscillating between her best friend Bella (Rachel Sennott), and her distant, terminally ill father, William (Perry Yung). The former is an artist and painter from a more privileged background who exploits Rebecca’s friend modeling in half-formed poses that serve as fleeting glimpses over their friendship. The latter connection returns to her life through a chance encounter. William is eager to spend the little time he has left trying to connect with his daughter.
Zhu is keen to uncover the depths of Rebecca’s isolation as she juggles the different components of her life. In fact, the filmmaker is at her most illuminating when “Bunnylovr” attempts to piece together the story of Rebecca who is below a certain age, has never known the world before the internet, and must delicately balance their reality and online interactions (and relationships) with great care. Captured from that angle, every single relationship in Rebecca’s life increasingly morphs into a complicated question mark especially the vacuous, John who is delightful yet dangerously seductive.
It’s not hard to identify warning signs if you consider what sort of a person would send a bunny to a stranger. However, John’s disconcerting aura manages to surpass my most pessimistic assumptions when he starts to ask fetishistic “favors” from Rebecca: Lie down, put the bunny on your stomach, and slowly lower the bunny further and further down. The worst camera session unfolds when John asks her to do something that might just cruelly injure the bunny. Will she follow orders, or defy his commands?
Rebecca’s self-questioning that follows is laden with complex processes of providing and surrendering personal autonomy while facing the oppressive imagination of boundaries. Except, Zhu does not do anything interesting with this inquiry, other than hint towards it and dump it right away. Elsewhere, the filmmaker’s hints of danger give “Bunnylovr” a jolt of energy when Rebecca decides to meet John. Zhu gracefully traverses those unsafely serene moments, taking us through the slow build for the dreaded climax of what might happen after what develops into the most uncomfortable movie date since “Taxi Driver.”
All in all, it’s hard to wrap one’s head around Rebecca’s motivation to go and expose herself to this kind of danger, especially after the creepy demands during their last session with him.
Therefore, the episode where Rebecca voluntarily drives to Pennsylvania to meet her online admirer seems like a convenient plot device rather than an authentic narrative evolution.
Zhu is a lot sharper and more confident, particularly with her smooth and sophisticated grasp on the passage of time and his declining health, while she follows his deepening relationship with him around New York City. By the end, you leave Bunnylovr unsatisfied and wishing for more from all the people in Rebecca’s orbit wondering whether the film’s harsh close-ups made you feel any closer to the characters. Following Zhu’s bizarre white rabbit is always captivating, but ultimately unfulfilling.
To watch more movies visit Fmovies
Also Watch for more movies like:
