Brazilian director Karim Aïnouz has created something so audaciously unhinged that calling it “shocking” feels like an understatement.
His latest film Rosebush Pruning doesn’t just push boundaries—it obliterates them with gleeful abandon.
Co-written by Efthimis Filippou, the mastermind behind Yorgos Lanthimos’s most disturbing works, this pansexual pantomime makes Dogtooth look like a family sitcom.
With a cast of fearless performers led by Callum Turner, Elle Fanning, Riley Keough, and Jamie Bell, Rosebush Pruning delivers a transgressive fever dream that rewrites what cinema can get away with in 2025.
Fashion-Obsessed Freaks on Spanish Shores
Edward, played with narcissistic charm by Callum Turner, introduces viewers to his world through a voiceover that immediately sexualizes everything in sight. He’s vacationing on a Spanish beach with George, a middle-aged Athenaean he’s known for barely ten days.
He’s the kind of guy I’d like to see naked.
That opening salvo sets the tone for what follows: two hours of relentless sexualization where traditional labels like “gay” and “straight” become utterly meaningless.
Edward describes himself without shame.
I don’t write, I don’t read.
His family, transplanted from New York to Catalonia six months earlier by their now-deceased mother (yes, Pamela Anderson in a brief role), shares his shallow obsessions. Music and fashion aren’t just interests—they’re everything.
When Wolves Kill Mom and Incest Becomes Casual
The family’s matriarch met a grotesque end: torn apart by wolves. This absurd detail gets mentioned matter-of-factly, establishing that Rosebush Pruning operates in a reality where nothing is too outrageous.
Left behind are their blind father (Tracy Letts), Edward, and his siblings—Jack (Jamie Bell), Robert (Lukas Gage), and Anna (Riley Keough). The family dynamic? Everyone is in love with Jack.
Not metaphorically. Not symbolically. Literally, incestuously, shamelessly in love.
So when Jack brings home Martha (Elle Fanning), an amateur classical guitarist who commits the cardinal sin of wearing Zara dresses and sporting a non-functioning Swatch, war is declared.
Riley Keough Channels Pure Depravity
Riley Keough’s Anna emerges as the film’s most outrageous creation, delivering what critics are calling the most lascivious performance since Selma Blair played an N-cup stripper in John Waters’ A Dirty Shame.
She wails to her blind father about Martha’s fashion crimes.
You can only imagine how badly she dresses, Dad!
Anna’s baby-blue go-go boots deserve their own cinematic universe. Every costume change becomes a subplot, from Robert’s socks to Edward’s latest ensemble.
But Keough isn’t alone in embracing the madness. Every cast member commits fully to Aïnouz’s deranged vision, creating an ensemble piece where each character gets their moment of shocking glory.
Did That Character Just Try to Carve a Vagina Into His Thigh?
Yes. Yes, he did.
Robert’s self-mutilation scene represents just one of many moments that will have audiences questioning what they’ve witnessed. Tracy Letts performs a toothbrushing ritual so disturbing that “rinse your eyes with bleach” becomes an accurate description.
Jack’s fascination with blood—whether animal or menstrual—adds another layer to his character’s desperate attempt to escape his vampiric family.
Through all this chaos, Elle Fanning’s horrified reactions serve as the audience’s surrogate, her face registering mounting disbelief as each new perversity unfolds.
Greek Weird Wave Meets Early Almodóvar
Co-writer Efthimis Filippou brings his signature surrealism from collaborations with Yorgos Lanthimos on films like Dogtooth and The Lobster. That Greek “Weird Wave” sensibility permeates every frame.
But Aïnouz adds influences that create something entirely new:
- Early Almodóvar’s visual excess without his warmth
- Joe Orton’s cruel wit and theatrical perversity
- Marco Bellocchio’s Fists in the Pocket as loose narrative inspiration
- Pet Shop Boys’ “Paninaro” as spiritual manifesto
The result? A film described as containing “joyful meanness” that previous provocateurs never quite achieved.
Gen Z and Millennials Demolish Prudishness Myths
Perhaps most surprising: this transgressive nightmare features predominantly younger performers giving fearless performances that contradict narratives about generational prudishness.
Callum Turner, Elle Fanning, Lukas Gage—these actors throw themselves into material that would make seasoned veterans hesitate. Their commitment elevates Rosebush Pruning beyond shock value into genuinely daring cinema.
The ensemble approach means no single character dominates, though Anna comes closest. Instead, viewers experience a rotating showcase of boundary-pushing performances where each family member gets their disturbing moment.
Plot Takes Backseat to Provocations
While inspired by Bellocchio’s 1965 film, Aïnouz and Filippou largely abandon conventional plotting. Jack’s attempts to escape his family provide loose structure, but narrative coherence isn’t the point.
Rosebush Pruning functions more as experiential provocation than traditional story—a candy-colored descent into polymorphous perversity where sexuality becomes so fluid that categorization becomes impossible.
This approach surpasses even Aïnouz’s previous work Motel Destino (2024) in sheer decadence and willingness to offend.
Black Comedy or Endurance Test?
Whether Rosebush Pruning qualifies as entertainment depends entirely on individual tolerance for transgression. It’s being called:
- An insane black comedy
- A bad-taste riot
- Sleazy Eurotrash cinema
- A polymorphously perverse pantomime
What’s undeniable: Aïnouz has created something genuinely shocking in an era when genuine shock has become increasingly rare. The film doesn’t apologize, doesn’t explain, and certainly doesn’t care if audiences find it too much.
For viewers who survived Dogtooth, The Lobster, and early John Waters, Rosebush Pruning offers fresh depravity. For those who haven’t built tolerance through years of extreme cinema, this might represent an initiation by fire.
These satanic majesties have issued their invitation. Only the bravest—or most masochistic—film lovers should accept.