Ophelia Dagger

Let’s do a review, shall we? People like doing those, and unlike trying to write a chapter for a novel I can knock this out like a child on rohypnol.

So, Melancholia, Lars Von Trier’s latest offering from his darkly colourful and controversial oeuvre. Von Trier has tackled it all; from domestic violence and mental illness to persecution and capital punishment. He was a pioneer of the Dogme 95 movement and, well,  what more really needs to be said about Dogville; his successfully engaging 2003 offering which challenged our preconceptions of cinema whilst simultaneously seeking to present a powerful allegory for the presence of evil in society? Not too much, other than a few further murmurs of awe. Which leads us to today – in 2011 what was there left for Lars to try his hand at? Oh, yes, the apocalypse.

To start with an incredibly base statement; Melancholia is a film that you have to want to watch. You can’t just absent mindedly stumble upon it on and become enraptured in a narrative tour de force, or absorbed in the kind of fast-paced and fantastical visuals that could very well pass as an ILM wet dream. You have to want to invest in Melancholia. That isn’t to say that the narrative is lacking or the visuals aren’t stunning, believe me, the shots are so sumptuous at times that if you were feeling particularly Tyler Durden you’d want to cut a slice and eat them, just to destroy something beautiful.

The film comes in two parts, divided by Von Trier’s signature title cards, which focus on Justine and Claire respectively (of course it does – Von Trier’s passion for depicting women in various states of emotional turmoil is perhaps equivalent only to his conviction of his own genius). The film opens with a beautiful and distinctive Von Trier montage of dream like re-imaginings of scenes from the rest of the movie. Then we cut to the first half, which opens in the middle of Justine’s wedding day; the ceremony is over and the guests have gathered in an elegant country mansion for the reception which remains our primary focus for the first half of the movie. This presents the audience with the opportunity to slowly get to know the characters and understand the dynamic between Justine and Claire; sisters with the usual opposing outlooks to life, the universe and everything. You know, the kind of divergent views which mean one answers “42″ and the other answers with a Beatles’ song. Of course we’re dealing with Von Trier here, so the differences don’t necessarily stem from the stereotypical sibling rivalry of the younger sister acting out against the role model older sibling with drugs, art and hippie sex communes. Instead we’re left with a subtle and intimate examination of the effects of depression. We are presented with Justine, a young woman on what society dictates is “the happiest day of her life,”  surrounded by friends and family, at a lavish party which is being paid for by Claire’s husband. As opposed to relishing this attention, however, every guest, every perfunctory social duty, every forced smile, becomes a bar on Justine’s cage; trapping her at every turn.

The sadness of caged birds ~ Jonathan Safran Foer

The first part of the film touches on it’s namesake, yet the focus doesn’t properly shift to it until Claire’s half begins. From here on out we have four characters: Justine, Claire, her husband; John, and her son; Leo. The four are alone in Claire and John’s home and faced with the news that the planet Melancholia is hurtling towards earth. John; a scientific man, assures everyone that the given trajectory means that Melancholia will miss earth but provide a grand spectacle as it passes by, Claire; neurotic and caring, continually badgers John and maintains a state of panic as the planet comes ever closer, Justine; depression colouring her apathetic, remains as indifferent to her potential destruction as she does to affection, and Leo; a child, acts as a totem for the other characters to indulge their own characteristics.

I would insert the standard “spoiler alert” warning here, but with Melancholia you know what you’re getting from the outset. This is a movie without hope. The planet hits at the end, as we know it will, but it’s the characters, the elegance, the nuances and the silences which make this film a must see, and why one can’t read the Wikipedia plot outline and then argue that “there’s no point in watching it now”. There’s no big reveal, no twist. It is just simply 136 minutes of delving delicately, rawly then savagely into depression and helplessness. Before the ending. That ending. That ending rendering the audience speechless, breathless. Sitting in awe, gaping at a black screen for moments after the film dramatically cuts out, whilst your brain tries desperately to comprehend what you’ve just seen.

Much has been made of the ending of Melancholia, the beauty, the impact, the noise. Truly, watching this in the cinema is not an experience that you’ll likely forget. I can’t tell you the last scene of a hell of a lot of films that I really liked, but this, this I could describe in unparalleled detail after only my first viewing. I’ve heard people talk about the noise, how the sound is turned up in the final moments so the film literally engulfs your senses, but honestly, I didn’t even notice. The visual was enough. It was everything and nothing all at once. I can’t pretend that it would be anywhere near as good on the plasma-screen in your living room, but I reckon it’ll still fair pretty well. Especially if you stick it on after Armageddon.

Everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt ~ Kurt Vonnegut, Jr

Melancholia: 7.5/10

Tags: Film Review, Lars Von Trier, Melancholia, Synopsis