Nothing is too crazed, corny, or freakishly florid for writer-director Wisit Sasanatieng’s debut, Tears of the Black Tiger (familiar to some from SIFF ’01, probably in a slightly different edit). Together with cinematographer Nattawut Kittikhun, Sasanatieng dyed his images through digital postproduction, pushing colors to impossible hues of eccentric radiance. Electrifying from frame one, the story opens with a blast of nuclear fuchsia in the shape of Rumpoey (Stella Malucchi), a well-to-do belle who awaits her bad-boy lover (Chartchai Ngamsan as Seua Dum) on a pagoda swamped in turquoise lily pads—a Monet by Warhol. Staged against garishly artificial backdrops and expressionistic weather, full of silly talk and sillier mustaches, the plot diagrams the tragic love triangle between Rumpoey, unhappily betrothed to a police captain (Arawat Ruangvuth), and Dum, her girlhood crush. The trajectory of these ill-starred lovers is narrated in flashback, as is the backstory of how Dum became the bandit “Black Tiger,” complete with slo-mo Peckinpah massacres and symphonic Morriconean freak-outs. One wit has dubbed the movie a “pad thai Western.” Obsolete by design, this singular stunt and shock to the cinematic system is of and beyond its own time.