Probably the most beautifully filmed depiction on being and nothingness, ever.
I have to warn you, if you like your films light and fluffy, or disaster-films full of apocalyptic warnings and roomful of scientists explaining charts to military personnel, then don't bother with this film, this will not be your cup of tea.
If on the other hand, you're used to Von Trier's work, his dark visions of human nature, his haunting cinematography and you're up on your European art and classical education, come watch this and be challenged, pick up the clues, put the jig-saw puzzle together, be blown away and finally silenced into awe.
Von Trier has a polarizing affect of his audience, you either love his films or hate them and I'll be upfront, I love his films because he goes places as a director, where angels normally fear to tread. That takes a certain amount of guts, audacity and a whole lot of vision and originality.
The opening scenes are a series of vignettes, which by themselves are so heart-breakingly beautiful, they could be painting by themselves, not unlike the visual poetry of the late Tarkovsky or Kieslowski. A castle, two beautiful women and a child drenched in eery moonlight, a bride walking away from a forest as plants seem to be grasping her like something out of an evil fairy tale, a mother and child sinking into the ground, a regal castle and estate looking out over the sea, the tiny Earth colliding into a super planet, Melancholia. A sense of doom hangs over everything.
Kirsten Dunst plays Justine, like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Millais' painting, floating in the river and disconnected from the world, not only literally but mentally too in her depression. Money, wealth, power, what does it all mean when you're miserable? Like the Marquis de Sade's Justine, nothing can reach her, not even love or sex. The brightest star in Scorpio, Antares, has suddenly tuned blue. Her little nephew, Leo has built a contraption to view the distance of the planet Melancholia by placing it near the heart. The animals have gone silent.
Students of medieval studies will understand the old cosmological world view of attributing absolutely everything in this world to the influence of the old 7 planets, much like C.S Lewis did in his depiction of the Narnia stories, each book attributed with themes and motifs according to each planet. Von Trier does the same here on a much smaller scale. The Saturnine difficult mother, the Jovial happy go lucky father, the heart- centered Son(Sun) Leo, the Mercurial silver-tongued brother-in law John, so good at convincing everyone, the aggressive jerk boss (Mars), the kind, loving husband Michael (Venus), the ever-changing moods of the sister Claire (de Lune -->Moon), the bride who is slowly dying from the inside, Justine (Earth).
This film is a meditation on the ultimate emptiness of what we deem to be markers of civilization and culture or success. How in the face of impending doom all these things are finally reduced to what they really mean in the grand scheme of things, absolutely nothing. That may sound depressing when viewed through the lens of Western civilization and materialism, but in many ways this is the doctrine of emptiness which the Buddhists have been preaching about for millennia. This isn't something depressing for them but rather is actually a clarion call to add real meaning to one's life instead by virtue of good deeds and the quality and integrity of the relationships around you, not just by accumulating needless stuff.
Maybe it has to do with the sense of malaise the world is feeling now, with the economic downturn, the protesters aflame the world over on the ideological death of capitalism, maybe it's the Mayan calendar allegedly ending in 2012 or the planet Nibiru returning like Zecharia Sitchin wrote about and no doubt influenced Von Trier, who knows? But the film has been timed perfectly to catch the mood and zeitgeist of the world in late 2011.
The final scene is one which I don't think I will ever forget and probably ranks right up there with the most amazing scenes ever portrayed on film, beautiful in it's simplicity and awesome in it's power. A Native American-like teepee or sweat lodge is built on top of a hill, at the end of the film, the "magic cave" which Justine promises to Leo will help them. Claire, Justine and Leo sit down inside, they hold hands in a circle because all they have left is each other now. The Earth is no more.
I have to warn you, if you like your films light and fluffy, or disaster-films full of apocalyptic warnings and roomful of scientists explaining charts to military personnel, then don't bother with this film, this will not be your cup of tea.
If on the other hand, you're used to Von Trier's work, his dark visions of human nature, his haunting cinematography and you're up on your European art and classical education, come watch this and be challenged, pick up the clues, put the jig-saw puzzle together, be blown away and finally silenced into awe.
Von Trier has a polarizing affect of his audience, you either love his films or hate them and I'll be upfront, I love his films because he goes places as a director, where angels normally fear to tread. That takes a certain amount of guts, audacity and a whole lot of vision and originality.
The opening scenes are a series of vignettes, which by themselves are so heart-breakingly beautiful, they could be painting by themselves, not unlike the visual poetry of the late Tarkovsky or Kieslowski. A castle, two beautiful women and a child drenched in eery moonlight, a bride walking away from a forest as plants seem to be grasping her like something out of an evil fairy tale, a mother and child sinking into the ground, a regal castle and estate looking out over the sea, the tiny Earth colliding into a super planet, Melancholia. A sense of doom hangs over everything.
Kirsten Dunst plays Justine, like Ophelia in Sir John Everett Millais' painting, floating in the river and disconnected from the world, not only literally but mentally too in her depression. Money, wealth, power, what does it all mean when you're miserable? Like the Marquis de Sade's Justine, nothing can reach her, not even love or sex. The brightest star in Scorpio, Antares, has suddenly tuned blue. Her little nephew, Leo has built a contraption to view the distance of the planet Melancholia by placing it near the heart. The animals have gone silent.
Students of medieval studies will understand the old cosmological world view of attributing absolutely everything in this world to the influence of the old 7 planets, much like C.S Lewis did in his depiction of the Narnia stories, each book attributed with themes and motifs according to each planet. Von Trier does the same here on a much smaller scale. The Saturnine difficult mother, the Jovial happy go lucky father, the heart- centered Son(Sun) Leo, the Mercurial silver-tongued brother-in law John, so good at convincing everyone, the aggressive jerk boss (Mars), the kind, loving husband Michael (Venus), the ever-changing moods of the sister Claire (de Lune -->Moon), the bride who is slowly dying from the inside, Justine (Earth).
This film is a meditation on the ultimate emptiness of what we deem to be markers of civilization and culture or success. How in the face of impending doom all these things are finally reduced to what they really mean in the grand scheme of things, absolutely nothing. That may sound depressing when viewed through the lens of Western civilization and materialism, but in many ways this is the doctrine of emptiness which the Buddhists have been preaching about for millennia. This isn't something depressing for them but rather is actually a clarion call to add real meaning to one's life instead by virtue of good deeds and the quality and integrity of the relationships around you, not just by accumulating needless stuff.
Maybe it has to do with the sense of malaise the world is feeling now, with the economic downturn, the protesters aflame the world over on the ideological death of capitalism, maybe it's the Mayan calendar allegedly ending in 2012 or the planet Nibiru returning like Zecharia Sitchin wrote about and no doubt influenced Von Trier, who knows? But the film has been timed perfectly to catch the mood and zeitgeist of the world in late 2011.
The final scene is one which I don't think I will ever forget and probably ranks right up there with the most amazing scenes ever portrayed on film, beautiful in it's simplicity and awesome in it's power. A Native American-like teepee or sweat lodge is built on top of a hill, at the end of the film, the "magic cave" which Justine promises to Leo will help them. Claire, Justine and Leo sit down inside, they hold hands in a circle because all they have left is each other now. The Earth is no more.
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