lunes, 10 de octubre de 2011

Scene City #1: Melancholia (Von Trier, 2011)




I try to watch every movie with an open mind but some movies trigger uneasy thoughts in my subconscious way before I even watch them; “Melancholia” is one of those instances when a director’s personality hovers so intently over his work that it’s impossible to review it objectively. I dislike Von Trier (and it doesn’t have anything to do with his silly antics at the Cannes Film Festival); its mostly because every one of his movies (at least the ones I’ve seen) feel like some sort of shared therapy session and we can almost pinpoint when his characters stop being themselves and become catalysts for Von Trier’s prejudices. It’s what I like to call “The Chaos Reigns Von Trier Rule of Thumb”.
“Melancholia” is about the end of the world. In Von Trier fashion, there’s a stylish prologue that confirms the doomed fate of its characters and the movie is divided into two chapters, the first one focusing on Justine (Kirsten Dunst’s character) and the second one on her sister Claire (played by Charlotte Gainsbourg, who apparently didn’t mind working again with the director who made her appear in scenes of genitalia mutilation on his previous film). The first half of this movie takes place at Justine’s wedding party, with the usual assortment of character actors who make an impact even though we might, just as well, call their appearances mere cameos. I confess a certain fascination with these scenes even though Justine’s depression seems contrived at every turn. The second act turns Justine into a catatonic wreck, while subtly (or maybe not so subtly) suggesting some sort of clairvoyance psychic nonsense to her character.
Kirsten Dunst won the best actress award at Cannes and, to be fair, Dunst shows maturity in her role even though Von Trier doesn’t give her much to work with. The impending doom scenes drag down until we find ourselves just waiting for the damn planet to hit Earth already. Since the characters are miserable in virtually every scene, the end feels more like a relief to both its audience and its players. “Melancholia” is a movie designed to be discussed by those who really admire Von Trier’s body of work (and, astonishingly, he seems to gather a large following). For haters it offers no hope or redemption, no sense of purpose or reason; it’s conceptually within the boundaries of Von Trier’s continuous self exploration. In other words, it’s just another pretentious bore.




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