Office Space
1999 · Directed by Mike Judge
Original language: English
- comedy
The story
A depressed white-collar worker tries hypnotherapy, only to find himself in a perpetual state of devil-may-care bliss that prompts him to start living by his own rules, and hatch a hapless attempt to embezzle money from his soul-killing employers.
What it’s like
Flat, fluorescent-lit cubicle farms and beige strip-mall Texas suburbs, shot in plain, unhurried medium shots with the kind of bland, washed-out daylight that makes every office look like the same office. The palette is drab greys, tans and dull teal, broken up by the bright orange-red of a neighbourhood Chotchkie's and the ordinary clutter of desks, printers and parked cars. Its sound is mostly the hum of office equipment, phone chatter and tinny radio, with a loose, folksy score of acoustic and twangy guitar that feels lazy on purpose. The vibe is dry, deadpan and easygoing, with a wry anti-corporate itch: the comedy comes from awkward pauses and small absurdities rather than frantic gags. The pacing is loose and episodic, and its central arc follows a gloomy office drone who slowly stops caring what his bosses think, drifting toward a sort of contented indifference. There is some mild profanity, a bit of drinking and a few tense confrontations, but no real violence beyond a brief, slapstick destruction of a printer. It suits a lazy Sunday, a comfort rewatch or background company on a slow evening, and it is for people who enjoy cynical workplace satire, quotable low-key humour and characters who quietly refuse to play the game.
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