To get an idea of the kind of guy that Lars von Trier is, consider his statement at a press conference following the disastrous booed Cannes premiere of his new film "Antichrist": "I am the best director in the world."
This is, in fact, not true, and von Trier knows it - like much of his work, the statement is a skilled attempt to stir up trouble. From the out-there mix of religion and sexuality in "Breaking the Waves" to the anti-American ranting of "Dogville", von Trier's highly provocative films have always been a touch insane ideologically. But they are also absolutely indelible: Von Trier is a genius at putting together powerful imagery and eliciting raw performances, whatever the aim of his work might be. "Antichrist", a demented thriller about a grieving couple turning on each other in the woods, is no exception to this pattern. The sheer visceral experience of seeing it left me very shaken indeed, even if I'm still struggling now to parse the jumbled mess of ideas.
The film begins with a gorgeous slow-motion black-and-white sequence reminiscent of a De Beers diamond commercial, with a soaring Handel aria accompanying the action. The beauty makes the content all the more disturbing: a couple (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) has graphic, violent sex as their child crawls from his crib and out a second story window. The grieving couple - credited as He and She - head to a wooded area known as Eden, where He, a psychotherapist, intends to treat She, who has been driven nearly insane by the loss. This violates a fair number of ethical standards, and a vicious Bergman-esque psychodrama ensues as He desperately and incompetently tries to cure She through long therapy sessions, of both the spoken and sexual kind.
Then, a talking fox tells the psychotherapist, "Chaos reigns," and things start to get very weird very quickly. The film loses all pretenses of realism and dives headfirst into the horror genre, as She turns the tables on her psychological tormentor and becomes a possessed succubus. Violence also starts to occur - the kind of outrageous, disgusting violence that will make viewers of either gender gasp, wince and cross their legs (and believe me, whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse). It's an insane, wild third act, and while I initially chortled a bit at the audacity of it all (particularly the fox), I choked on the laughs as von Trier brought the events to their brutally intense conclusion.
If this sounds like another flat entry in the so-called "torture porn" genre, it's not. Von Trier wields masterful formal control here to create a film that would have been devastating even without the extreme violence. Working with last year's cinematography Oscar winner Anthony Dod Mantle, von Trier creates vistas of nature that are as hauntingly beautiful as they are disturbing. Particularly notable are sequences of visualization undergone by Gainsbourg's character as a psychological exercise, which are reminiscent of Bosch paintings in their sublime horror. Von Trier sustains tension beautifully throughout the film as well with subtle kaleidoscopic manipulations of the frame and his trademark "Dogme 95"-style handheld camerawork.
The performances are similarly stellar. Gainsbourg, who won the Cannes award for best actress, creates a thoroughly affecting and psychologically realistic portrait of a grieving woman, managing to retain substantial pathos even as all psychological realism in her character is thrown out the window. Her performance in particular makes "Antichrist" the shattering experience that it is.
Of course, once the shock has worn off, we're left to puzzle out what it all means. The film does appear to be a variation on Adam and Eve's banishment from Eden, with the baby's fall as the Fall of Man. But the horror section of the film delves deeply into symbolism and allusions that result in a set of ideas that often seem to contradict each other, particularly when it comes to what the film is trying to say about women (though the female monster constructed here is, among other things, almost certainly von Trier taunting the detractors that have accused him of misogyny over the years for relatively pleasant films).
Here's the thing, though: This mess of a film is worth grappling with. Stunned Cannes audiences quickly dismissed "Antichrist" as nothing more than another von Trier provocation, but as other festival audiences have had a chance to take a look without the initial "What the hell?" factor, the film's critical reputation has improved. Whatever else the film may be, it is as effective as a horror film can be in probing the dark depths of the human soul. Von Trier reportedly made this film while suffering from severe depression, and he has channeled his demons onto screen in a way that would make David Lynch proud. At the very least, he's managed to haunt the dreams of this jaded, once horror-immune movie critic.
Pros: Enthralling, terrifying and technically magnificent. Cult director Lars Von Trier delivers once again.
Cons: If graphic sex, dead babies, and talking animals don't sound like your ideal movie date, then steer clear.
5 PAWS
