Doctor Proctor's Fart Powder ("Doktor Proktors prompepulver")
Poor Lisa. She’s entirely ignored by her parents, an obsessively “perfect” housewife and a gun nut with delusions of military grandeur. And now her best friend has moved far away. Her only friend. But who’s this who has moved into her friend’s former house? A bold little rascal named Nilly, with a shock of bright red hair, a big mouth and constant curiosity. He and Lisa investigate the sound of an explosion on the property of Dr. Proctor, a brilliant but befuddled scientist who has been toiling away at developing a compound to counteract baldness. The powder he has produced won’t put hairs on your head, but it will put the wind in your sails! The first batch of Proctor’s powder generates loud, forceful bursts of odorless flatulence, and when the kids propose selling the stuff as a safe alternative to fireworks on Norway’s Independence Day, the neighbourhood children line up for their share. The project’s financial success attracts the attention of the wealthy and very unethical Mr. Thrane, the town’s other inventor. The secret of his success has always been sneakiness, and now that Proctor and his pint-sized pals have upgraded their windy wonder-stuff to aviation-industry standards, Thrane and his sons, a pair of thick and brutish twins, will use any dirty trick to get their hands on it!
With 2008’s FATSO, Norway’s Arild Fröhlich proved his mettle at making smart, even challenging comedy cinema that deliberately targets taboo territory, leaping over lines of good taste with brash body humour but never losing sight of humane core values. With his adaptation of the hit children’s book by Jo Nesbø, Frölich may have found himself a whole new market for his decidedly naughty sense of fun. DOCTOR PROCTOR'S FART POWDER is pure and potent giggle-inducing goofiness, an over-the-top tale with a visual aesthetic to match. Startlingly colourful and bright, flawlessly art-directed down to the tiniest tacky detail, it’s a fantasy vision of Scandinavian suburbia that recalls the tone and trickery of Jean-Pierre Jeunet and early Tim Burton, before he got all grim and gothic — if anything, this movie would likely be in heavy rotation on the magic screen at Pee-Wee Herman’s playhouse. Gleeful silliness in great big quantities, that’s what you get when you go for DOCTOR PROCTOR'S FART POWDER! (NOTE: Out of respect for your fellow audience members, we ask that you do NOT attempt to recreate the on-screen procedures while in the Fantasia cinema.)
— Rupert Bottenberg