The moustache of main character David/The Lobster (Farrell) might easily serve as emblem for the film: earnest and yet outrageously out-of-place, trying to fit into a world whose societal constructs and everyday cruelties in fact make no more sense than any other animal endeavour. Absurdist SF is combined with deadpan Satire to disorienting effect.
The laws of “The City” indicate that David and the other single people in The Lobster must be taken to “The Hotel”, a desolate and joyless locale in the style of an English holiday resort wherein those visiting must couple-up within the forty-five day time limit or be sent off to live in “The Woods”: “If you fail to fall in love during your stay here, you will turn into an animal.” David’s brother is rendered as real-life dog on screen because “he was here a couple of years ago but he didn’t make it”. Masturbation is banned, Sex with the Hotel Maid (Labed) is as mandatory as it is joyless, and the hotel is filled with single people unable to talk, dance or connect emotionally with one another except via a bloodless rendition of romantic customs vaguely reminiscent of the transmitted narcissism of Internet dating. “If you encounter any problems you cannot resolve yourselves,” announces the Hotel Manager (Colman), “you will be assigned children. That usually helps.”