Dancer in the Dark
***1/2
Rated on a 4-star
scale
Screening venue: Odeon (Liverpool City Centre)
Released in the UK by Film Four on September 29, 2000; certificate 15; 140
minutes; countries of origin Denmark/ Finland/ France/ Germany/ Iceland/
Italy/ Netherlands/ Norway/ UK/ USA; aspect ratio 2.35:1
Directed by Lars Von Trier; produced by
Vibeke Windelov.
Written by Lars Von Trier.
Photographed by Robby Muller; edited by Francois Gedigier,
Molly Malene, Stensgaard.
CAST.....
Bjork..... Selma Jezkova
David Morse..... Bill
Peter Stormare..... Jeff
Catherine Deneuve..... Cathy
Vladica Kostic..... Gene
Joel Grey..... Oldrich Novy
Jean-Marc Barr..... Norman
Lars Von Trier's "Dancer in the Dark"
is an audacious and mesmerising mixture of guerrilla filmmaking, musical,
character study, tragedy, period piece, parable, melodrama and examination
of both the freedoms and traps offered by American society. There are people
who hate it, finding it pretentious or annoying; the distributor has even
offered a money-back guarantee to anyone who sees it on opening day and comes
out unsatisfied. When I left the screening, drained and amazed, getting a
refund was the last thing on my mind -- and believe me, I could use the
cash.
The Icelandic singer Bjork, who won the Best Actress
prize at Cannes for her performance in this film, plays Selma Jezkova, a
Czechoslovakian immigrant living in Washington State in 1964. Due to an inherited
disorder that starts to take effect during early teenage years, Selma is
going blind. She's good at hiding it, but not good enough to fool Cathy
(Catherine Deneuve), her closest friend at work. "You're going to kill yourself
one of these days," warns Cathy. "I don't know how much longer I can keep
on telling you."
Selma suffers through her job as a steel press
operator, intent on saving enough money for her thirteen-year old son Gene
(Vladica Kostic) to get an eye operation and avoid the effects of his family
disorder. As days grow long and images become more blurry, Selma uses her
sense of hearing and memories of Hollywood musicals to guide her through
factory assignments, imagining that the clicks of machines are forming grand
symphonies, and picturing herself singing and dancing her way through
them.
The plot gains its focus when Selma's landlord
Bill (David Morse) finds out about her savings. He's a cop whose wife has
squandered all his money, but he doesn't want her to know about the depletion
of funds, for fear that she will leave him. Bill sees himself as having two
options: steal from Selma or commit suicide. He attempts to take Selma's
money. Selma confronts him about it. Bill waves a gun, and the bizarre and
complex specifics of the situation lead Selma into the position of having
to kill him.
I've never been a big Bjork fan; her movements
and speech are off-putting, and her whiny singing voice summons in me the
kind of reaction usually provoked by fingernails on a blackboard. Here she's
playing a character who is disabled, doesn't have complete mastery over the
English language, and isn't supposed to be a professional singer. Her outward
appearance therefore makes a lot more sense, and the emotions of her character
are able to shine through. The last act of "Dancer in the Dark", which puts
this poor woman on trial and then death row, is inevitably devastating --
whether she's screaming, whimpering or sitting in eerie
silence.
The story is so strong that it could have worked
as straight drama. That Von Trier chose to write it as a musical was a
masterstroke. In allowing us to see Selma's visions -- such dreamy and energetic
contrasts to the dank rural world she lives in -- he brings us profoundly
close to her, right under the skin of the wonderful Bjork performance and
into some kind of telepathic connection. The musical is also a genre that
allows itself broad characterisations as a matter of course. Yes, Selma looks
like such a Raggedy Ann figure that it's essentially manipulative, with her
shy little face, thick glasses and torn shawl; but that's within the rules
for this kind of movie.
"Dancer in the Dark" is not a conventional film.
I can see why it gets people talking. Bjork is not a well-liked celebrity;
the screenplay touches a lot of socio-political bases in a way that inspires
thought but does not stick around to make its own conclusions; and Von Trier's
filmmaking style, of jarring cuts and hand-held camcorder photography, is
not for everyone. Film students will have a lot to dissect. Repeat viewings
will be required to appreciate the richness of the film's details. In many
ways it's like "Breaking the Waves", the 1996 picture that earned Von Trier
international fame. Both movies are deliberately provocative in their tales
and techniques. Both hint at Von Trier's analytical mind in the way they
give us a complete understanding of how people can be forced into situations
that seem inexcusable when you describe their bare bones in words. And both
engage us by being about women who do what they think is right, refuse to
betray promises even when they should, stick to their principles, and go
to heaven for it. Selflessness is one of the most moving things in cinema,
and in life.
COPYRIGHT© 2000 Ian
Waldron-Mantgani
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