Melancholia

Lars von Trier's "Melancholia" works wonderfully as a companion piece to Terrence Malick's "The Tree of Life." For one, they're both stunningly shot arthouse films that are epic in scale and that some label “visionary" and others label “pretentious.” The second reason is that Malick's film is seen by many as a celebration of birth, of the universe and of life in general. Von Trier's film, on the other hand, is about the end of life; indeed it is about the end of all life forms crawling, swimming, walking and galloping on the face of the miserable little planet we like to call Earth.

This apocalypse is at the hands of a planet which scientists have just recently discovered. This planet is fittingly called Melancholia and has been hiding behind the sun, hence astronomers were unaware of its existence until recently. Now, however, it has come out of hiding, is becoming increasingly visible with the naked eye and is hurtling towards our general vicinity; some have predicted that it is going to collide with the Earth and that it will kill every life form on the globe; yes, even the cute little kitties.

Oddly, we are shown this collision in the opening moments of the film; it is presented in a hypnotic dream-like state, an overwhelming orchestral score blaring out from the loudspeakers as our protagonists, filmed in slow-motion, react to the end of the world. These moments set the tone perfectly; they are haunting yet magnificent, and eerie yet mesmerising. It's a marvellous sequence that is filmed exquisitely and attractively; it is cinema at its most visually beautiful.

The film is split into two parts, both of which are named after the film’s two protagonists. The first part is named after Justine, who is played by Kirsten Dunst (“Spider-Man”). The second part is named after Claire, who is played by Charlotte Gainsbourg (“Antichrist”). Justine and Claire are sisters, and their sibling relationship is very convincing.

Part one concerns the party celebrating the wedding of Justine and new hubby Michael (Alexander Skarsgard, “Straw Dogs”), who seems to be a genuinely nice man. The wedding is taking place at Claire’s house, or castle I should say, with Claire’s husband John (Kiefer Sutherland, “24”) paying for the whole thing. As the expensive-looking festivities continue into the late hours of the night, Justine becomes increasingly gloomy and unhappy, much to the concern of the party guests and the annoyance of John. During this first half we are unaware of the planet Melancholia, though Justine frequently looks at a star shining ominously in the night sky.

Part two also takes place at Claire’s house/castle/castle-house (complete with massive golf course). Justine is now suffering from severe depression, is unable to complete simple everyday tasks and thus moves in with her sister, John and their young son, Leo (Cameron Spurr). At this point we are made fully aware of Melancholia; John is an astronomer and assures his worried wife that the planet will simply pass us by. Claire, however, is convinced otherwise.

As it’s written and directed by Lars von Trier, you can bet your bottom dollar that “Melancholia” is a glum experience; another clue to this is that it’s called “Melancholia.” The controversial Danish director is known for his tremendously bleak and clinically unhappy films, such as “Dogville” (which involves rape) and “Antichrist” (which involves genital mutilation); y’know, the kind of films you wouldn’t go out and see with your mum (unless your mum is very cool). “Melancholia” is no exception; yes, its plot revolves around a planetary collision and the impending doom of mankind, so some glumness is a given, but just make sure don’t go in expecting the audience-pleasing nature of Michael Bay’s “Armageddon.”

You see, while “Armageddon” was big and dumb and fast and fun, “Melancholia” is slowly paced and deliberately miserable in tone. It takes its time as it develops characters and gradually builds up to the possible collision of Melancholia with Earth. This global-killing impact serves, for the most part, as little more than a backdrop, though the ever-nearing presence of planet Melancholia is always in the back of our minds.

Dunst and Gainsbourg make for marvellously cheerless protagonists; their characters fit the film perfectly, I suppose you could say. Dunst is in control of the film’s first half, with Gainsbourg appearing on occasion, while in the second half the film’s focus shifts more to Gainsbourg, though Dunst serves as prominent support along with the glorious Sutherland.

Both characters go through extreme states of sadness at different stages throughout the film. Dunst’s sadness seems to be a result of mental illness, while Gainsbourg’s sadness is a result of the threatening presence of planet Melancholia. Like their sisterly relationship, Dunst and Gainsbourg are incredibly convincing in their gloomy roles; the latter is more sympathetic (Dunst’s character seems to be a bit of a dodgy individual), but both characters feel real and genuine.

So, don’t go into “Melancholia” expecting an explosive thrill-ride about valiant heroes saving the Earth from imminent expiration. This is arthouse stuff from a filmmaker notorious for sending audiences into severe depression, and he’s certainly not changing his ways with “Melancholia.” Me, I was put down in the dumps by the film, but I still saw it as a powerful, beautiful, hypnotic and near-faultless piece of cinema; turns out down in the dumps is a happy place for me to be.

10/10