A Mirror Floating in Water

Lars von Trier; I have only seen two of his films, but I'm confident enough to say that he is the most emotionally powerful director living today. His unflinching power transcends that of almost any director.

Trier has made some of the most shocking, sexually violent and emotionaly tramatic films of all time, with his new film Antichrist probably being the most extreme example (though I have yet to see it). Roger Ebert himself even said in his review of Antichrist that Trier "is driven to confront and shake his audience more than any other serious filmmaker - even Bunuel and Herzog." Those familiar with these two great directors will know the expanse of this statement. And it's true.

Judgement of Trier's films does not come about by asking the question, is this film great or not? but if it has effected you or not. Dancer in the Dark is a melodrama with a plot that would better suit a film made during the age of D.W. Griffith. It concerns a Chekloslovokian single-mother who works at a factory and is trying to star in a stage production of The Sound of Music and tries to hold these two jobs together to save up money for an operation on her son, as she slowly goes blind. The operation is one that will remove the genes that she has passed on to him, so that he will not have her blindness heriditary. This film also happens to be a musical, and without a doubt the most unconventional musical ever made (but I'll get to that in a little bit).

Now, I've seen many films, and I don't fall very easily for melodramas and in fact prefer emotionally subtle directors like Stanley Kubrick or Ingmar Begman, who make immensely emotional films, but don't come bursting out on the screen with tears and tissues.

Dancer in the Dark is one of those films that will only effect you whether or not if you are in sympathy with the characters. Dancer in the Dark has a relatively soapy plot, and has many of the typical characters of melodramas, but is filmed, directed, acted in such an unconventional way, that every second is utterly believable.

I don't want to give away much of the plot, for, like most melodramas, a lot happens. All I can say is that Bjork is such a brave and beautiful actress, with merely the nature of her performance being a curiosity. For those not familiar, Bjork is a famous Icelandtic pop star, who is a celebrity in her country. Now, imagine Paris Hilton or Britney Spears in a not-so-glamorous performance, with a director known for his lack of mercy, in a Danish art film. Yeah, incomprehensible. Bjork's performance is so admirable and so couragous, so humble, that it is shocking to think that the star of this film is a pop celebrity (and though this may be a musical, upon seeing it, you'll know what I mean).

Now any actor or actress willing to work with Trier should be commended for their bravery. But Bjork's in particular is daring because not only is she willing to play an pretty, but far from glamorous single-mother who possesses more innocence and heart than intelligence and wit, but also because she was bold enough to sing in such a film.

Now the musical scenes come in as a result of her character's passion for music (especially Hollywood musicals) and her senstitive ear, to which she begins to hear rhythms upon hearing noise. From the bleakness (and sometimes unbearably traumatic) of her everyday life, she escapes into daydreams in which everyone begins singing and dancing.

The film self-consciously begins by seemingly criticizing the escapism of musicals, one of its characters saying how he didn't understand why in musicals people suddenly burst into song. As the movie progressed, I soon came to realize that this film is possibly the greatest and most loyal dedication to musicals, presenting escapism as a nessicary part of human existence.

Filmed in typical Trier style, almost every shot (besides the musical ones) is filmed on a handheld digital camera (in accordence with Dogme 95) with many jump-cuts and seemingly improvised camera-work. The musical scenes are contrasted with static cameras, with carefully composed camera-angles, with saturated film colors.

It is quite fascinating the self-conscious irony of the film. It has an extremely un-modernistic plot, more comfortable in a silent melodrama from 1919, while it is filmed in an the innovative avant-garde style of Dogme 95 and performed with extreme emotional intensity.

Oh and I haven't even come to the characters, who, despite being founded on cliches, are the heart of the film and the very reason why this film is so powerful. There is Selma (Bjork), who has a heart of gold and proves to be utterly selfless in literatly eternal dedication to her son. Not enough can be said of her, for she is such a beautiful and kind person, able to make even the most unlikely people smile, that it is suprising and sickening when there are those (very close to her) whom betray her.

There is her best friend and fellow worker at the factory who is more outgoing and reliable than her, and is always someone whom she can lean on. There is Jeffery, who is (if I must say) Selma's adorable crush, who waits for her every day after work trying to offer her a ride home (his feelings for her being very well established), but her shyness not allowing it. Then there is the couple from whom she rents her trailer, a police officer and a strongly 'American' women who loves to spend money. The police officer is a close friend of Selma's, who seeks her in times of deep distress and shares with her his secret financial troubles as well as his suicidal tendancies, while she shares him detererating sight (something she admits to no one). This is where the plot begins and what follows is a chain of unpredictable events leading to some of the most unbearable scenes I've ever had to sit through.

When I say 'unbearable' I do not mean it in the way the Transformers 2 is unbearable (far from it). I mean, unbearable in the sense that Trier has jolted and tore me apart from the inside; the power of his storytelling is unprecedented. I must warn you, for those who are squemish or easily disraught. Those, who like Selma in the story, become so depressed when a musical ends that they walk out before the second to last song so that they can hold the endless memory of it forever in their hearts, DO NOT watch this movie, or any of Trier's other films. One must be very brave and ready when watching any of his films. I, who am no stranger to tough films, found myself repeating "it's only a movie, this is all fake", but couldn't convince myself, due to the mercilessly realistic documentary-like photography which had cast me under a spell. I was in fact so shooken up, that afterwards I had vomitted half of my meal and had to take long shower so that I could go to sleep.

It is almost shocking the unflitching integrity of the final scenes, the willingness to show it all, to not close the curtain and fly the camera through the roof until it is over, which, through all of the ironies of ironies, it does.

So is Trier's musical a great film or is it cruelly manipulative sentimentality? I don't know. There are only a handful of films like these which transcend criticism and can only be judged on a purely emotional level. What do I think of Trier's film: I am utterly shaken. 9/10