Melancholia review...

Melancholia is, I suppose, in some very tacit way, a horror movie. As was Lars von Trier’s previous outing, Antrichrist.

As is evident from my previous review on the Skin I Live In, I am not one to struggle against falling into a directorial cult of personality. Evidently, von Trier has such reverent devotees to establish such a thing. 

Arguably though, von Trier’s cult is composed of people who wish to crush their testicles and/or cut off their clitorises. 

And thus, I feel rather reticent to fully immerse myself into such a group of people, valuing my own testicles as I do.

It’s not a spoiler if it refers to a different movie than is being discussed. You should have done your homework. Didn’t you know that, Sidney? 

Anyways, Melancholia is quite well shot. It is opulent, beautiful and visually quite poetic. I would like to lower myself and the film to cliches such as style over substance, but using such easy and maligned dismissals simply wouldn’t do the film justice. 

A lot of the dialogue is riveting, powerful. Spot on. 

But viewed in its entire context, the film is complacent. It is satisfied with what it is and it never tries to be anything more than that. Revealing perhaps is von Trier’s early description of the movie as a beautiful film about the end of the world. It is that and only that. 

It is more an exercise than a movie. von Trier expects a lot out of his audience. You get out of this film what you put in. von Trier wants to write the kinds of films you can dissect, write essays about. And he sure has one here. 

If that’s good or bad is up to you, my friends. 

Sure, there are lots of well played little details that may or not may elucidate something meaningful about the narrative and the story and all of those cinematic undertakings.

But such things could just as easily be dismissed as the self serving meanderings of a bloated diner at an all you can eat sushi place. Let me refine the metaphor: all you can eat sushi hits the tongue delectably at the beginning, but with each subsequent piece the flavours are less pleasurable, your gut gets a little more full. 

That is not to say that Melancholia is heavy handed or has an unpalatable ending, far from it. In fact, the last act is probably the only part in which any legitimate kind of tension is built. 

But by the end, the whole film seems somewhat absurd. Ultimately, its value hangs on that which the viewer goes into with. The concept is good, the execution is good enough and there you have it. Take what you will. 

Consume as many pieces as you want. At an unwieldily running length of over two hours, just be careful you don’t get charged for your leftovers. 

Anyhow, see this once. It’s pretty and well acted. And I would do Alexander Skarsgard and Kiefer Sutherland in any which way.

So, three out of five anemic, melancholic stuck thumbs out of five.

xoxo 

dbag