Five Again Take Three.

Take Three of about a million and a half, at this rate. I've watched four more films since the last one, so I'm not really getting far ahead...

This was unexpected. I've watched most of David Lynch's films (with Eraserhead coming up, it leaves Inland Empire and Dune as the only two features left - I finished reading Dune a month or two ago, so I'll have to hit that up some time.) Known for his crazy, dense, almost incomprehensible films, The Straight Story was a blast from left-field for Lynch, being, as it were, a straight story. Simply, it is the story of Alvin Straight, an old man who travels six weeks on a ride-on lawnmower to visit his dying estranged brother. Going blind and with only minor use of his legs, it is a heartwarming story of tenacity and family, and the personal rewards that come from doing something everyone says you can't. Richard Farnsworth was Academy Award nominated for his role, and was backed up very well by Sissy Spacek as his mentally disabled but very bright and caring daughter. A beautiful story well told, and a surprising entry into David Lynch's catalogue, further cementing his 'great' status. 4 stars.

The DVD for Brighton Rock was another floating around the living room when I didn't have anything to watch, and I'd heard something about the remake in the preceding few days, so I thought I'd check it out. And it was quite good. A very young Richard Attenborough takes on the lead role of Pinkie in this inter-war crime film set in the eponymous English seaside town of Brighton. Pinkie is the precocious leader of his gang, showing very little fear in the face of anything that comes his way, who marries beautiful waitress Rose (Carol Marsh) to keep her quiet. As he starts to lose his grip on his gang and on the Brighton scene, he becomes more and more desperate and violent. Attenborough is terrifying in his role, precipitating a long and fruitful career both in front of and behind the camera. The remake (or should I say readaptation of Graham Greene's source novel) doesn't seem to be getting the same props as this 1947 production, so it's well worth checking out. 4 stars.



Ah, Harmony Korine and Lars von Trier. Dogme 95 was previously explored here, and looked at Korine here. Korine (uncredited) was writer and director on Julien Donkey Boy, the sixth entry in the Dogme 95 movement, about a severely dysfunctional family comprised of undiagnosed schizophrenic Julien (Ewen Bremner), his sister Pearl (Chloe Sevigny) who is also carrying Julien's child, his brother Chris (Evan Neumann) and deranged father (Werner Herzog - brilliant.) It's a wholly disturbing film complete with the Dogme look of verging-on-amateur, though the gravity of the story and depth of the performances ensures you're never fooled into believing this is anything but the real thing. Korine has a way of making films that are quite physically unsettling, and I find them often quite hard to sit through, though that isn't to take away from the power of his stories. 3 stars.

1969 - what a year. Costa-Gavras' Z powered into the Oscars with five nominations, including for both Foreign Language Film and Best Picture, taking home both the former and Best Editing. A not-so-subtle indictment of the Greek government at the time (though officially a work of fiction, I believe, with a starting disclaimer that any resemblance to real life is entirely deliberate), the film examines judicial and governmental moves to silence a burgeoning leftist movement in the unnamed country (again, definitely meant to be Greece, though the film was primarily shot in Algiers and is in French...) It's a brilliant piece of filmmaking, throttling the viewer with its viewpoint and forcing your engagement every step of the way. I'm not familiar with the rest of Gavras' work, but I'm definitely keen to rectify that. 5 stars.

In my head, 24 Hour Party People was a totally different film. I can't think now of what I was getting it confused with, but it certainly wasn't what I watched, which is why I put it off for so long. The story of the Manchester club and music scene in the late 80s and early 90s, the film primarily focuses on Tony Wilson (Steve Coogan), a journalist who becomes a budding promoter and club owner, brought up and down by his own hedonistic decadence and belief in himself, at the same time seeming to compromise the very vision he pioneered and propagated. Looking also at the rise and fall of bands such as Joy Division, Happy Mondays and New Order, it is a fascinating and very entertaining look at this time, filled with frequent fourth wall breakages to insert actual memories and commentary on the time. Director Michael Winterbottom and writer Frank Cottrell Boyce both work splendidly to create this masterful biopic of an era, as told through one man. 4.5 stars.

Chaos Reigns.

Lars von Trier is very, very well known for his misogyny. In Breaking The Waves his female protagonist is under the direction of her husband, with horrible consequences for her. In The Idiots his female protagonist is subjected to the whims of the group she is surrounded by, against her better nature, and with a tragic emotional impact. In Dancer In The Dark his female protagonist is afflicted by illness and forced to submit to the darker side of society and her landlord in order to provide for her child. In Dogville his female protagonist is set upon by an initially welcoming village, and while she does get her revenge it is provided for her by a powerful father. In Manderlay his female protagonist becomes frustrated and ultimately horribly disillusioned both with herself and the other characters.


Generally, the female characters have very little power of their own. Often, their power is gifted to them by outside forces - Grace's father in Dogville, her gunmen in Manderlay, the otherness of Selma in Dancer In The Dark. With his female protagonist in Antichrist (fittingly given no name), however, he provides power and yet still creates a situation whereabouts she is completely destroyed, degraded, castrated (if you will), subdued. Despite her power, obtained through grief and a husband who refuses to give up for many reasons, von Trier's misogyny will have its way.

But this is a singular von Trier film in many ways. From the opening scene you know to throw out all of your preconceptions of how this film will run. Dogme 95 this certainly isn't. Gone are the Brechtian stylisations of Dogville and Manderlay. This film isn't gritty, there is no reality here, the film exists entirely in the mind. 


The Man (Willem Dafoe) and the Woman (Charlotte Gainsbourg) lose child to a tragic accident. The Woman is particularly struck by the trauma of the incident, spending a month in hospital, medicated and receiving therapy. The Man, also a therapist, takes her out of hospital, believing her to be overmedicated and of the belief that his closeness and knowledge of his wife will enable him to better help her recover. She tries to distract herself from her trauma using sex - she repeatedly throws herself on top of him during heated arguments and screaming matches, crying and both physically and verbally abusing him in the process.As he delves into her mind and the causes behind her frequent panic attacks, he discovers that the source of much of her fear is the woods around their holiday cabin, Eden.


The two hike to the woods with the Woman panicking towards the end, running towards the house. As the Man sets about creating exercises to try and break through the wall of her distress, the woods and surrounds begin to affect them both. As she seems to be getting better (a false hope) he starts to lose it, communicating with animals and reading into her work on gynocide. Finally, in her psychosis, she beats him in a very delicate area with a hunk of wood, hobbles him and wanders off. He escapes and she comes looking, burying him alive. Wracked with remorse she digs him free and the two return to the cabin where she infamously cuts off her clitoris. Finally, he frees himself and exacts his revenge.

As mentioned, the Woman has the power throughout. The Man is entirely focused on regenerating his wife's mental state, whether for selfish reasons of self-aggrandisement or for more charitable reasons doesn't matter, and so is at her beck and call, constantly doing her bidding. Her grief is the driving force behind this power, crippling her husband and herself with its veracity. Her hallucinations and self-blame for the death of their young son drive the narrative relentlessly forward, and the viewer is never allowed a moment to breath.


This film looks like no other von Trier film. As I said. The opening scene, detailing the death of young Nic (the only character here to get a name, and he's dead...), plays like an incredibly expensive extended advertisement for a luxury goods brand. The black and white, uber-slow motion, crystal clear cinematography and operatic soundtrack accompanying shots of the Man and the Woman passionately making love around the house as Nic wakes up, lets himself out of his crib and ultimately dies are beautiful and moving, serving to distance this moment of happiness followed by the horrible catalyst for the remainder of the film from the remainder of the picture set in their house and in and around Eden. In fact, while the shots move from the stylisation of the black and white slo-mo advertisement feel to more realistic visions, the film never loses that glossy feel of expensive cinema, rich, textured and beautiful. This effect (something I've never seen von Trier do outside, perhaps, the musical sequences in Dancer In The Dark) heightens the psychosis of the characters, giving the environment a character and mood, making the film that much scarier.

The performances from both are fantastic, especially from Gainsbourg, who won Best Actress at Cannes and has probably delivered one of the best performances of the last few years to go almost entirely unnoticed. I mean, even Björk got a Golden Globe nod. (I don't mean that to sound like I don't think she deserved it - I think her performance is one of the best and most heartbreaking I've ever seen. I meant it as, if they're willing to recognise the power of the performance of one of the strangest pop artifacts in the world, surely they'd recognise that by the daughter of Jane Birkin and Serge Gainsbourg, right?) And the photography from Anthony Dod Mantle is incredible, again criminally overlooked this year. He won an Oscar for Slumdog Millionaire last year, but that doesn't mean he can't win another this year! Plus, if I remember the credits correctly and my knowledge of previous von Trier films is correct, Mantle managed to wrestle the camera away from von Trier for this film - he was the camera operator, where I've almost always seen von Trier handling it himself.


All this having been said, the film is a struggle. It is dark, it is hard. These are two words I always associate with von Trier films, but here, possibly due to the heightened realism and impressionist influences, the character of nature and the sheer audacity of the graphic nature of the violence, it is very, very trying. Not necessarily in a bad way. I find myself in a similar frame of mind to after seeing Irreversible however many years ago. I came out of the film shell-shocked, barely able to breath. I call it a five star film that I never want to see it again and would never recommend anyone ever see - I can't fault it for many reasons, but dear god. Antichrist hasn't quite hit me in that way, but if I ever see it again (which will take a hell of a lot of courage on my part) I'm going to make damn sure there's someone sitting next to me that I can hide behind and take comfort in. As a grotesque and confronting horror film without any monsters outside of the minds of these two tragic and intelligent figures, Antichrist takes the cake. I will, as ever, hang out waiting for the next masterpiece (and yes, I'd say this is a masterpiece in many ways, whether or not you love it or despise it) from this auteur of auteurs, but will have to work through much therapy to bring myself to go through that again in a hurry. 5 stars.

How P.C.

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