Even at the best of times, weddings can sometimes be unintentionally tense affairs. A pre-planned “perfect day” is always going to be a tricky thing to pull off, especially with deep-seated family friction lurking under the surface. In Lars von Trier’s latest film these tensions are amplified to an apocalyptic degree as a lavish fairy-tale wedding rapidly descends into social disaster. Unfortunately for the guests of this wedding, this apocalypse soon turns out to be not just a metaphorical one, but a very literal one as well. A giant planet, known as Melancholia, has suddenly appeared among the stars of the night sky, and is now heading on a collision course with the Earth.
As plots go it’s a fairly ludicrous one, perhaps more typical of big budget disaster movies than arthouse cinema. However, rather than focus on the fate of the planet as a whole, von Trier sensibly pushes small-scale psychological drama to the forefront of his tale. This leads to a global disaster film that’s surprisingly, and somewhat refreshingly, low-key. The entire story unfolds at a single country mansion, with the apocalypse itself being seen in the reactions of just four central characters. This storytelling restraint mixes with occasional scenes so dramatic they’re almost operatic. Nowhere is this more the case than the film’s opening, which distils the key themes of the story into a series of glossy, almost advert-like images, accompanied by the booming sound of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. Such a clash of the subdued and the melodramatic could have easily backfired, but von Trier manages to pitch it just right so that the two filmmaking styles compliment, rather than undermine, each other.
Granting such a high concept storyline any shred of believability requires compelling cast performances, and thankfully Melancholia boasts plenty of those. Among the talent assembled, an emotionally crumbling Charlotte Gainsbourg, a charmingly playful John Hurt and a naively lovestruck Alexander Skarsgård stand out as particular highlights. Most surprisingly though Kirsten Dunst delivers what is almost certainly her career highlight. Her character’s gradual emotional breakdown throughout the wedding is unpleasantly hypnotic to observe, and her later portrayal of severe melancholia makes for uncomfortable, but convincing viewing for anyone who’s ever seen or experienced the condition in real life.
The film’s focus on depression and indeed melancholia itself perhaps isn’t surprising once Lars von Trier’s ongoing battle with it is taken into account. In this light, Melancholia, much like his previous film Antichrist, can almost be seen as a form of cinematic therapy, only in this case von Trier gets to quite literally destroy everything and create a story where those suffering from depression prove to be the strongest in the face of disaster. While it’s certainly a melancholy experience it’s not one that feels excessively downbeat, thanks in part to beautiful cinematography, black humour and the sheer spectacle of the plot itself. Von Trier is of course a notorious provocateur, and while not all of his comments deserve the attention they’re granted, Melancholia certainly does deserve it.
Screening complimentary of The Showroom Cinema, Sheffield.
www.showroomworkstation.org.uk