Von Trier’s Antichrist Morbid but Far from Mundane

©2009 Zentropa Entertainments23 ApS, Zentropa International Köln GmbH, Slot Machine Sarl, Liberator Productions Sarl, Arte France Cinéma, Memfis Film International AB, Trollhättan Film AB, Lucky Red SRL.

Throughout much of human history, the forest has always been considered a place of danger and foreboding and in Lars Von Trier’s “Antichrist,” fear of the forest takes on a whole new level of anxiety and shock.

While He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) are having sex, their young child falls from a window to his death in agonizing slow motion all the while Handel’s “Lascia ch’io pianga” plays in the background.

He, who happens to be a psychotherapist, agrees to council his grief-stricken wife with the caveat that they move to Eden, their cabin in the woods.

At first, a gaunt and perpetually bony She substitutes sex for grief throughout much of “Antichrist” but as they both discover, sex is never the antidote for grief especially when it comes to losing a child.

Acorns and trees become objects of dread as do the sounds of the forests which become more and more horrific as She spirals into a deeply imbedded madness.

A constant droning sound similar to that in David Lynch’s “Eraserhead” becomes synonymous with dread.

In one scene, a more sinister version of Mr. Fox from “Fantastic Mr. Fox” tells He that “chaos reigns” which is true in most Von Trier films but so what?

Later, HE reads She’s diary with its incomprehensible writings peppered with motifs suggesting witchcraft and a complete devolution which opens a window into the ravings of a lunatic.

As proof, She asks He to “hit her until it hurts” but when He hesitates at first, She exclaims that “You don’t love me.”

More “Eraserhead”-like music provides the eerie backdrop to fornication in the woods and in a woodshed where She (in a fit of rage) makes a failed attempt at copulation with her husband.

©2009 Zentropa Entertainments23 ApS, Zentropa International Köln GmbH, Slot Machine Sarl, Liberator Productions Sarl, Arte France Cinéma, Memfis Film International AB, Trollhättan Film AB, Lucky Red SRL.

Instead of moving on like most normal couples, She clobbers He in the groin with a piece of split wood rendering him unconscious.

In a “Misery”-esque moment, She takes an antique wood drill, pops a nice hole in He’s leg and immobilizes him by attaching a heavy weight to the leg.

“Antichrist” seems to give new meaning to the phrase: Hell hath no fury like a woman’s scorn.

After regaining consciousness, He attempts an escape by crawling through the forest where he fights off a raven that wants to make a meal of his leg.

At this point, one almost hopes a giant tree limb would fall on He, She and the entire Von Trier production crew such is the sense of intense, ultra-violent psychosis in this film.

The biggest mistake here is not moving out to the country cabin to heal but He’s insistence on acting as his wife’s psychotherapist which comes into alarmingly sharp focus as She plods through the woods screaming “Where are you, you bastard?”

The level of pain and suffering in this film are on such a massive scale as to almost render this film comical and beyond hyperbole such that the hyper-violence in “Misery” and “A Clockwork Orange” come to mind as being almost sophomoric.

Despite the morbid subject matter and depressing montage and script, “Antichrist” draws the viewer into a kind of morbidly weeping vortex reminiscent of a diabolical peep show.

She’s actions toward the climax of “Antichrist” are clearly meant to precipitate a type of suicide-by-cop action by her husband.

The climax itself is beyond watchable except in some countries where self-mutilation is still acceptable (spoiler alert).

Gainsbourg, as Von Trier’s bony yet electrifying muse, is as usual intelligent and dynamic in her believable depiction of a broken woman who slides into madness following a tragic loss.

Dafoe too is great in a performance that rates him high as the quintessential actor’s actor.

“Antichrist” is dedicated to the Russian director Andre Tarkovsky who may have agreed with the notion that if there is any redeeming message to be gained from this film, it’s that the ugly side of human nature has its place among all forms of human artistic endeavor including cinema, but that doesn’t mean that the ideology of art for art’s sake is for everyone.

It’s not a stretch to say that “Antichrist” may be perceived as being completely inaccessible to all but the biggest Von Trier fans but it’s also a film that the viewer can’t help but watch simply out of curiosity much as motorists slow down to view a horrific automobile accident.

Still, based on Von Trier’s catalog of films to date, I’m sure that he would be okay with that assessment.—-Steve Santiago

Bachelorette a Walk on the Wild Side

If there’s one valuable lesson to be learned in life, it’s that best friends can sometimes be your worst enemies even if they’re your BFFs.

Such is the fundamental premise of Leslye Headland’s freshman offering “Bachelorette” which is based on her well-received play of the same name.

Portly Becky (Rebel Wilson) is all set to marry the handsome but immemorable Dale and it’s up to feisty careerist Regan (Kirsten Dunst) to handle the maid of dishonor duties starting with four-alarm phone calls to high school buddies Gena (Lizzy Caplan), a smart-ass, sarcastic bohemian and Katie (Isla Fisher) a ditzy party girl.

Becky and Regan form the core of the clique but it’s only because BFF in their case means Bulimic Friends Forever.

2012 Gary Sanchez Productions, BCDF Pictures, Weinstein Company, RADiUS-TWC

Even after Becky finds out that a wasted Regan and Katie destroyed her wedding dress by trying to squeeze into it for a Facebookesque photo op, Becky can only reminisce about the times she and Regan spent in high school puking up lunch in the girls’ room.

Much raunchier than kindred chick flicks like “Bridesmaids” or anything starring Jennifer Aniston, one could probably say with fair accuracy that “Bachelorette” is more like a raunchier version of “Sex in the City” meets “The Hangover.”

The “Sex in the City” similarities go right down the principals sporting the same hair color too–two blondes, a redhead and a brunette.

Headland, better known as a TV and screen writer of the soon-to-be-released “About Last Night” and “Terriers,” a 20th Century Fox Television and FX Network co-production, pulls out all the stops in the one-liner department.

As the girls frantically search for tailor to repair Becky’s dress, Headland lets loose with zinger after zinger in a script that is tight and punchy―as in punch to the gut.

Casually relaxed pronouncements using the C-word and B-word are peppered throughout the tight 90-minute romp.

A perpetually tooted-up Gena lets her cell phone go to voicemail with a greeting that prompts the caller to “Eat a d**k.”

Katie overindulges at the reception and gradually spirals into a drug-and-drink-induced stupor.

“I don’t know what to do around people I really like, either sleep with them or get really drunk,” she relates.

After Katie overdoses on Xanax paramedics are called.

And with only minutes to spare before the wedding and no wedding dress in sight, a frazzled Regan chastises an inflexible wedding planner who notes that the cascade of mishaps aren’t on the itinerary.

“Providing a fucked up b*tch wasn’t on the itinerary either,” Regan snaps.”It’s Manhattan on Saturday ―five minutes is like 30 minutes.”

With a goofy wedding band and an eclectic soundtrack borrowing from the classics, 80s and 90s, “Bachelorette” is blisteringly uneven in parts but in a wickedly entertaining way if you can look past the vulgar language and cancer and bulimia references.—Steve Santiago