Lars von Trier is the only director with two films in my all-time top 10 list: "Breaking the Waves" (1996) and "Dogville" (2003). The same way "Dogville" remains the most psychologically disturbing film I've ever seen, Trier's "antichrist" (2009) is easily the most sickening cinematic experience I've ever had. Lars is polarizing even among his most ardent fans. I would never watch antichrist again, for it feels like it was made just for shock value - something I despise.
But the first true thing about Lars is this: you will love or hate his films, but you shall never be indifferent to them. And that to me is, in and of itself, an important quality. With his latest effort, "Melancholia", Trier more than redeems himself from "antichrist", making one of his greatest and most unforgettable films.
"Melancholia" is, like most of von Trier's work, divided into chapters; in this case, just two. The first half is "Justine" (Kirsten Dunst, magnificent), a beautiful but clinically depressed young woman on her wedding day with the sweet, gentle (perhaps, too gentle), and handsome Michael (Alexander Skarsgard). Trying her best to look happy ("I smile, I smile, and I smile"), Justine fails to please most around her, especially her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg, always fascinating) and her prick of a husband, John (Kiefer Sutherland); not to mention Michael himself. Other smaller but essential characters are Claire's son (Cameron Spurr), Justine and Claire's parents (the wonderfully bitter - as always - Charlotte Rampling, and John Hurt), Justine's boss (Stellan Skarsgard), his clueless nephew (Brady Corbet), and Trier's perennial friend and collaborator Udo Kier as the wedding planner (and the closest to a comic relief here).
The second half, "Claire", focuses on Gainsbourg's character's unraveling at the idea that Melancholia - "a planet hiding behind the sun" - might collide with Earth. As Claire and John - the shiny happy people we all strive to be - face despair, the morbidly sad Justine becomes more and more... peaceful. Von Trier has publicly declared his struggles with depression in the past, and he builds his film on the fascinating concept that depressives tend to feel more at home at times of intense distress (and possible catastrophe), while the "normal" people have a harder time facing or even considering tragedy. As someone who's been struggling with depression/bipolarity for years, I can personally relate to this.
Whether or not you're familiar with depression, "Melancholia" is a hypnotic piece of cinema - from the breathtaking images (by Portuguese cinematographer Manuel Alberto Claro), to the formidable performances, and the beautiful soundtrack (pieces from Wagner's opera "Tristan & Isolde" are the main theme). Von Trier's work, in my opinion, speaks for itself. He is, above all, a provocateur. He may fail miserably at his attempts at humor and be socially awkward, but I do not believe he is a bad guy - let alone a Nazi (regardless of his infamous remarks at this year's Cannes). One does not need to be a great man in order to be a great artist (in this case, filmmaker); but I do believe a sense of humanity must be inherent in the work of any great artist, and humanity is something I see dissected, questioned, and exquisitely represented in von Trier's oeuvre. And, if the world is indeed going to end in 2012 (which I don't believe, but you never know): as long as it ends the way von Trier predicts, I'm okay with it. See this film at all costs.
But the first true thing about Lars is this: you will love or hate his films, but you shall never be indifferent to them. And that to me is, in and of itself, an important quality. With his latest effort, "Melancholia", Trier more than redeems himself from "antichrist", making one of his greatest and most unforgettable films.
"Melancholia" is, like most of von Trier's work, divided into chapters; in this case, just two. The first half is "Justine" (Kirsten Dunst, magnificent), a beautiful but clinically depressed young woman on her wedding day with the sweet, gentle (perhaps, too gentle), and handsome Michael (Alexander Skarsgard). Trying her best to look happy ("I smile, I smile, and I smile"), Justine fails to please most around her, especially her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg, always fascinating) and her prick of a husband, John (Kiefer Sutherland); not to mention Michael himself. Other smaller but essential characters are Claire's son (Cameron Spurr), Justine and Claire's parents (the wonderfully bitter - as always - Charlotte Rampling, and John Hurt), Justine's boss (Stellan Skarsgard), his clueless nephew (Brady Corbet), and Trier's perennial friend and collaborator Udo Kier as the wedding planner (and the closest to a comic relief here).
The second half, "Claire", focuses on Gainsbourg's character's unraveling at the idea that Melancholia - "a planet hiding behind the sun" - might collide with Earth. As Claire and John - the shiny happy people we all strive to be - face despair, the morbidly sad Justine becomes more and more... peaceful. Von Trier has publicly declared his struggles with depression in the past, and he builds his film on the fascinating concept that depressives tend to feel more at home at times of intense distress (and possible catastrophe), while the "normal" people have a harder time facing or even considering tragedy. As someone who's been struggling with depression/bipolarity for years, I can personally relate to this.
Whether or not you're familiar with depression, "Melancholia" is a hypnotic piece of cinema - from the breathtaking images (by Portuguese cinematographer Manuel Alberto Claro), to the formidable performances, and the beautiful soundtrack (pieces from Wagner's opera "Tristan & Isolde" are the main theme). Von Trier's work, in my opinion, speaks for itself. He is, above all, a provocateur. He may fail miserably at his attempts at humor and be socially awkward, but I do not believe he is a bad guy - let alone a Nazi (regardless of his infamous remarks at this year's Cannes). One does not need to be a great man in order to be a great artist (in this case, filmmaker); but I do believe a sense of humanity must be inherent in the work of any great artist, and humanity is something I see dissected, questioned, and exquisitely represented in von Trier's oeuvre. And, if the world is indeed going to end in 2012 (which I don't believe, but you never know): as long as it ends the way von Trier predicts, I'm okay with it. See this film at all costs.