Perhaps I'm stating the obvious, but it's not
always a good thing when a film's reputation precedes it. Such is
the case with ""Antichrist,"" the latest film directed by
self-proclaimed auteur/provocateur Lars von Trier. Von Trier's
gimmick has long been to needle his audience relentlessly, but the
ends he's hoping to achieve with this approach are seldom clear.
What to make of 1998's moving yet troubling ""The Idiots,"" or
2003's gloriously gutted yet completely cruel
""Dogville""?
A name that frequently arises in discussions
about von Trier is Bertolt Brecht, the influential German
playwright and dramatic theorist. Brecht cited art's ability to
alienate audiences and stimulate serious thought as its most
important function; yet, there's little evidence in von Trier's
oeuvre to suggest that he's aiming to arouse hardcore contemplation
on the part of his viewer. If anything, von Trier's desired effect
is primarily visceral rather than intellectual; no work in his
filmography exemplifies this more clearly than ""Antichrist.""
Maybe it's time to retire the comparisons to Brecht and instead
think of von Trier as a successor to the early 20th
century French poet/playwright Antonin Artaud, who theorized a
""Theater of Cruelty"" that sought to make its audience feel many
things, none of which were particularly pleasant.
Enjoy what you're reading? Get content from The Daily Cardinal delivered to your inbox
One of the most mocked aspects of
""Antichrist"" is the dedication that immediately precedes its end
credits. Von Trier, asserting his status as the film's author,
dedicates it to the Russian filmmaker Andrei Tarkovsky, whose work
is often cited as the apotheosis of so-called ""spiritual cinema.""
Indeed, prior to shooting von Trier had both cast and crew watch
Tarkovsky's ""Mirror"" (one of the greatest and most perplexing
films ever made) for reasons that aren't entirely clear until one
takes the time to study the mise en scène and cinematography of
""Antichrist."" Most of the film's compositions are haunted by
impenetrable mist, inexplicably self-destructive animals and
ethereal figures drifting from one reality to another. Things get
especially interesting when cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle (of
""Slumdog Millionaire"" fame) mimics von Trier's own camerawork
from his earlier films: the handheld zooms and sporadic cutting
offer a fresh and seductive look at environments ripped straight
from the aforementioned ""Mirror"" as well as from another
Tarkovsky masterwork, ""Solaris."" It's only when the film goes
from ""spiritual"" to ""Hostel"" that things really fall
apart.
The controversy about ""Antichrist"" deals with
the film's depiction of sex as both softcore porno and all-out
torture. As other critics have noted, the slow-motion intercourse
at the beginning of the film is ridiculously heavy-handed and
undermines the sequence's dramatic gravity. The film's most
notorious passages—the D.I.Y. female circumcision and the equally
brutal castration (with its truly revolting aftermath)—have been
regrettably well-documented. Indeed, people are more familiar with
these moments than with anything else in the film (like the super
ballsy performance by Charlotte Gainsbourg, who shrieks, writhes,
self-mutilates and masturbates her way into one of film history's
strangest star-turns). On the one hand, this business has made
""Antichrist"" von Trier's most discussed film to date; on the
other hand, nobody seems to have much to say about the film's
genuinely impressive aesthetics because it's so much easier to take
a position on the film's intensely graphic (though only momentary)
violence. The trouble with ""Antichrist"" is that most of its
provocation is pure sideshow, distracting from the otherwise
formidable stuff going on.
Von Trier's track record of coaxing intense performances from his actresses—such as Emily Watson, Bjork and Nicole Kidman—is justly revered. This makes the charge of misogyny that von Trier often receives all the more curious. The philosophy expounded in ""Antichrist"" is relatively unambiguous but by no means straightforward: Woman causes Man's fall, but Woman is also Man's salvation. ""Antichrist"" never quite reconciles this dialectic, and perhaps a feminist film scholar will someday interpret the movie so as to prove that von Trier literally believes the ideas advanced by Gainsbourg's character regarding the essential evil of women. For now, it's enough to praise von Trier for making a profoundly problematic film; however, we should also let him know that alienation is most effective when it wakes the viewer up, not when it distracts her from the real meat of the work.
Support your local paper
Donate Today
The Daily Cardinal has been covering the University and Madison community since 1892. Please consider giving today.
