Feature Film Review - Melancholia

Rating:

Director Lars von Triers has long sought to re-invigorate the Hollywood archetypes of old and has constantly challenge the molds of movie monotony. It is this relentless pursuit of a freethinking, borderless approach to cinema that has made him a perennial nominee of the prestigious Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival. Intent on always working to question the clear-cut categorization of film, the mercurial Danish director has returned to the spotlight with Melancholia, another genre-bending work of cataclysmic proportions.

Orbiting around the emotionally disturbed Justine, played by Kirsten Dunst, Melancholia examines a dysfunctional family tittering on the edge of disaster. The film begins with Justine’s lavish wedding reception at the estate of her brother in law John played by Kiefer Sutherland. The event soon unravels as Justine lapses into varying states of depression while family baggage becomes too heavy to handle. The desperation quickly compounds as it becomes clear that a new planet called Melancholia is on a collision course for Earth.

Sutherland, Gainsbourg, and Dunst bask in the light of
Melancholia.

This new project from von Triers is epic in both strength and scope. Melancholia is not only visually absorbing but also commands attention as its atmosphere engulfs audiences and leaves them weighted to the film like a powerful gravitational pull. Much akin to Malick’s The Tree of Life, the film is an experience that tears at you with a brutality that only humanity can provide.

Von Tiers draws a leery eye upon extravagance as he details every inch of Sutherland’s kingdom. The magnificent stone castle upon the eighteen-hole golf course beams with immaculate wood interiors and fine furnishings. The reception for Justine and her husband Michael is an excessive affair complete with a renown wedding planner, a ludicrous stretched limo, and personalized sky lanterns. Themes are rich with the trappings of over indulgence.

Melancholia trends towards a nihilistic view that not only maligns material opulence but even questions the value of human relations and all things impermanent. Justine’s mother manifests this idea by exhibiting a cynicism for love and happiness that is absolute. At first we abhor the mother but come the film’s conclusion the rantings of the old codger contain more truth that we would like to admit.

Much like his uber-controversial 2009 film Antichrist, Lars von Trier once again blurs the boundaries of film genres. Antichrist was his experiment with horror and now he has moved to the disaster film with Melancholia. He reimagines the simple template with thought-provoking depth and offers an ethereal viewing experience with a larger than life “MacGuffin” moving the story line along. Melancholia warns against reaching too far for the stars because you may find something unexpected lurking in the cold expanse. No matter how you interpret the film's meaning, you will never to look at the heavens in quite the same way again.

Adam is the founder of www.featurefilmreview.com. Email comments to adam (at) featurefilmreview (dot) com.