Film Review: Melancholia
Image: Magnolia Pictures Text: Susie Kahlich
Leave it to Lars von Trier to make a disaster flick anything but.
One of the best things about living in Paris is that films hang around in the cinema a lot longer than they do in other major cities. In the US, you have about 10 days to catch something on a big screen; in Paris, you have about two months.
All the better to catch the final week’s run of Lars von Trier’s Melancholia, released in Paris over the summer and winding up its run at most cinemas this coming Tuesday.
We all know by now that some films will hold up just as well on our giant television screens or even our oversized computer monitors, and so we can wait for the digital stream or DVD or however you like to get your movies. But some films are so much better relished through the size and scope of a theater screen, through the surround-sound speaker system and through the collective experience only to be had in the company of an audience. Melancholia is one of these films.
Melancholia is the tale of two sisters, Justine (Kirstine Dunst) and Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and how they each deal with the news of impending doom. Most disaster films assume the disaster is inevitable, and the story is usually one of how we go about preparing to die and, often, a story of mankind's intelligence and wit overcoming the forces of nature. The difference with Melancholia—and the shot in the arm the disaster genre needs—is that we don’t know that the disaster is inevitable. It remains a question all the way through the film, ratcheting up the tension and giving us perhaps a more quiet but far more intense ride. Lars von Trier employs the secret of all good horror directors: the real fear is the unknown.
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