What we have here is a textbook example of "the art film" in all of it's mystifyingly unintelligible glory. From the looks of it, "Un Chien Andalou" - aka. "An Andalusian Dog" - is about a guy who wipes out on his bicycle outside of a chick's apartment building. She takes him in and he stares at a cluster of ants crawling on his hand. They then watch out the window as some dykey haired woman (could've been a little boy, maybe) pokes at a severed hand with a stick in the middle of the road while a crowd is gathered around her. A cop puts the hand in a box and the woman (or little boy) is struck by a car. Back in the apartment, the dude gets a little rapey, chases the chick around and gropes her tits until, all of a sudden, he is tied to two pianos with two dead mules laying on top of them. Then, the woman disappears and the guy dukes it out with another guy until one of them gets gunned down by some dual-pistol action...
Just weirdness. Bizarre 'arthouse' shit from the silent age of cinema, which is kinda interesting, seeing as how it's a little sleazy (by 1929 standards) and, of course, for the notorious razor blade eyeball slicing scene. There's really not a whole lot of straight-up entertainment value one could derive from "An Andalusian Dog" unless they're a major film school art-fag creep. For the average cinephile, however, it's short and worth checking out just for the sake of saying you did. And Salvador Dali is in it briefly.
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