“What the f#%k?”

The final three words mouthed by Sarah, the object of protagonist Hank’s infatuation, aptly summarises what is arguably the most ludicrous motion picture Hollywood has evicted from its bowels in 2016.

Moments before the credits roll, the scene focuses on an awkwardly grinning, supernatural cadaver making a beeline for the open seas, propelled by its otherworldly potent farts. As the motorboat corpse gradually becomes an indistinguishable dot upon the horizon, there’s a mixed reception from the witnesses along the shore.

One smiles profoundly. One can’t help but chuckle. A couple stare in disbelief, and another face betrays a look of disgust. Of course, someone just had to go, “what the f#%k.”

The emotions conveyed by the characters during the ending cinematic of directors Daniel Kwan and Daniel Scheinert’s Swiss Army Man are a caricature of the responses the film received since its debut on the big screen. Some will love it, some will hate it, some will scratch their heads in confusion and everyone will mouth “what the f#%k.” I mean, how else could you react to a movie centred around a flatulent, zombie Daniel Radcliffe?

The film can and will be dismissed outright simply because the trailer alone leapfrogs way beyond the threshold of how much insanity the average person can register. But it’s precisely because it’s so out of the norm that Swiss Army Man is so compelling. Sift through the farting jokes and utter stupidity and you’ll find that it’s unexpectedly brilliant, laden with emotional depth and presents the irony of how death affords life its meaning.

Make no mistake though: Swiss Army Man is absolutely an overdose of crazy. The duo behind the near 100-minute film, collectively called the Daniels, are the kind of people that stumble throughout the script writing process only to unwittingly spawn a story on gay necrophilia… before deciding to just run with it.

It starts off relatively normal; Paul Dano’s character Hank is alone on a deserted island with a noose around his neck, wrestling fears on ending his own life. He then notices a body washed ashore… then this mildly suggestive scene transpires a couple minutes later:

Turns out the dead body is the magical farting abomination who Hank names Manny (played by Radcliffe). Manny’s mouth can dispense drinkable water like a perverse fountain. His farts have massive propulsive force, able to light fires with a single anal burp or act as “fuel” to ride himself and Hank across the ocean. His teeth can double up as a shaving blade. When aroused (yes, the corpse gets horny), his erected penis will point toward the way home. It’s a naughty compass.

It’s thanks to this nonsensical existence that Hank transitions from suicidal to someone desperate to return home. Manny, on the other hand, has no memory of who he is or why he’s dead. He doesn’t understand life, social cues, or any sensibilities possessed by the living, so Hank teaches him through a series of surreal, D.I.Y crafting projects.

As Manny gets reacquainted with the joys of living, Hank has to contend with the former’s sheer ignorance of common decency. The Swiss army man-corpse seems like the byproduct of Harry Potter and Donald Trump having a night under the sheets. He says what’s on his mind with zero filtering, from perverse thoughts to unintentional insults, and can’t wrap his head around the fact that farting in public is considered rude and embarrassing.

There’s a profound undertone behind the two characters’ seemingly shallow development. While the talking corpse hardly has a semblance of tact, he imparts upon Hank (and the film’s viewers) that it’s okay to be yourself, even if you’re weird. Quirkiness or outright odd-ball behaviour isn’t, by default, a cause for embarrassment. You aren’t worth less just because you are cast from a different mould. Manny, the unnatural, multipurpose, suit-wearing Doraemon, thoroughly exemplifies this.

With him as the centrepiece, the movie leans upon obscurity (is Manny real or a manifestation of Hank’s subconscious?) and fantastical nonsense to explore the meaning of existence, love and the road to self-understanding. It’s far more philosophical than the trailer initially suggests.

Swiss Army Man also makes every attempt to swerve off cliche. You’d think it’ll end with Hank in a ward, that he’d been imagining Manny all along or whatever, but no. The storytellers absolutely refuse to be predictable, at the cost of leaving some loose ends.

In a way, it adds to the film’s appeal. It leaves far greater room for interpretation, after all. Regardless, Swiss Army Man’s overall purpose may be impenetrable to understanding fully; it’s too hilariously weird. But – to employ the moral messaging it unusually relays – just because it’s weird and stupid doesn’t mean it’s a bust.

Give it a chance. Life’s sometimes too normal, anyway. Liven it up with a saturated dose of crazy… and experience the best “what the f#%k” moments Hollywood can offer this year.