Kirsten Dunst in a scene from Lars von Trier's "Melancholia" (Handout)
To really get a handle on Melancholia, you first have to look past writer-director Lars von Trier's own madness. Is there any spark of genius left? The jury is deliberating.
The dastardly Dane turned himself into a public spectacle with his 'sympathy-for-Hitler' press conference at the Cannes Film Festival in May. He also made brutally inappropriate sexual comments about his lead actresses, Kirsten Dunst and Charlotte Gainsbourg. Obviously, this has muddied perspectives on his "visionary" drama. Especially because he has repeatedly apologized, retracted and reiterated his ideas, causing more confusion. He then finally retreated from the roil of media that his stupidity had generated.
Standing alone, Melancholia is an intensely personal wedding drama set against a potentially apocalyptic event, which is the intersection of Earth's orbit with another planet, called Melancholia. It sits in the sky as an ominous portent.
That seems rather interesting. And the film does begin with an astonishing stylistic flourish that is pure exhilarating cinema. For a few minutes, von Trier shows the sheer power of image, deftly moving his star -- Cannes' best actress winner Dunst -- in slow motion through the landscapes of a palatial estate where she is about to be married. Alexander Skarsgard is the groom. Dunst's moody sister is played by Gainsbourg. Kiefer Sutherland is her brother-in-law. Everyone seems to be too heavily involved in the planning, and the behind-the-scenes plotting. This family is as mixed up as the one in the famous Danish film Festen (Celebration).
Melancholia then motors mightily through the first half with Dunst at its core as the conflicted bride. She is terrific, even though the character is mentally disturbed. But the overlong final act is a betrayal of the audience. The focus has shifted to Gainsbourg's dour sister. Pretentious posturing is not fun or even good drama. By the climax, we don't care who lives or dies. We just want it all to end. Psychologically, it is just a mess, despite that remarkable beginning.
As a production, Melancholia is in that murky Euro-American zone. It is a co-production of Denmark, Sweden, France and Germany. Filming took place in Trollhattan, a 600-year-old city in southwest Sweden where von Trier has worked before, on Dogville and Dancer in the Dark. The cast is international, with origins ranging from Denmark to Sweden, Germany, England, Canada and, of course, the United States. The language of currency on screen is English. The tone is von Trier. The focus is fuzzy.
Melancholia has its champions, with some hailing it and giving it a place among von Trier's masterpieces. Not me. That is a place reserved for Europa, Breaking the Waves and his brilliant television series The Kingdom. All were made in the 1990s. In the new millennium, he has become tired and self-indulgent. His next film is a porno and Lars von Trier is now a caricature of a serious filmmaker.
