Disaster movies occupy a certain spot in contemporary cinema. They usually conjure images of gridlocked city streets, wailing crowds and lots of fire. Lars von Trier's latest film, "Melancholia," refreshingly subverts the genre by focusing intensely on a small group of people in the days that precede the apocalypse.
It isn't spoiling much, especially for fans who know von Trier, to say that the world does actually end in the film. In fact, the movie opens with a lush, balletic rendering of the apocalypse in slow motion. Von Trier wanted to get the big question — whether or not the world will end — out of the way as soon as possible, letting him pursue the psychological states of the characters with less distraction.
The movie centers on a newlywed named Justine, played by Kirsten Dunst in arguably the best performance of her career. She and her husband, Michael (Alexander Skarsgård), are holding their wedding reception at a beautiful villa with their dysfunctional families in tow. It quickly becomes apparent that Justine is hardly as happy as the occasion warrants, and her inability to fake happiness distresses her controlling sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg).
All the while, von Trier hints at the existence of Melancholia, a rogue planet that is hurtling along a collision course with Earth. While Melancholia starts out as an ominous red star in the sky, it grows larger and larger until the climactic end sequence.
The claustrophobic feel of the villa in "Melancholia" is hardly new for von Trier. His last film, "Antichrist" (2009), detailed the deterioration of a couple after they retreat to a secluded cabin in the wake of their infant child's death. What makes "Melancholia" so compelling is the palpability of Justine's depression and the responses it produces in those closest to her. Gainsbourg's nuanced performance shows how nagging solicitude, superficial calm and a smothering character all come together to fight Justine's depression. Despite Justine's emotional fragility, she becomes the only stable character as Melancholia nears Earth.
Despite its grim topic, "Melancholia" is a genuinely gorgeous film. Von Trier's directing style shifts to accommodate the mood of each scene. Most of the film is shot with a handheld camera that lacks Steadicam, lending a shaky−handed, realistic aesthetic that contrasts the splendor of the setting. Von Trier astutely shifts the camera work to more formal cinematic standards during climactic scenes, producing strikingly clear shots that sharply juxtapose the jittery camera work surrounding them. The contrast between these two approaches makes such scenes even more effective than they would be ordinarily.
Von Trier's infamous cynicism assumes new visual forms in "Melancholia," which finds beauty in the most hopeless topics. Justine's depression helps her transcend the fear that cripples her loved ones in their final days on Earth, allowing her to see the incoming planet's beauty in a way no one else can appreciate. Her seeming indifference to the end of the world is subtly acted by Dunst, who skillfully avoids the cliched pitfalls that many actors succumb to when playing melancholic roles.
Justine's relative calm in the days leading up to the apocalypse stirs some of the best drama in the film. As Claire vainly scrambles and frets when she learns of the world's inevitable end, her worldview finally clashes with Justine's in one of the most memorable scenes in recent cinema. The air of futility that has permeated the film finally comes to light in a series of mordantly delivered lines from Justine, who ultimately cripples any hope her loved ones may have. Though "Melancholia" is certainly not for the faint of heart, it is one of the most affecting films of the last few years.
