![]() The film’s most dismal moments (its final act) are particularly shocking and will likely haunt you for the rest of your life, and that’s a testament to Von Trier’s no-nonsense approach to filmmaking: Dancer in the Dark is a pseudo Dogma 95 film that doesn’t abide by the movement’s rules entirely, but just enough to make as many moments as possible count.Įven considering its impossible-to-ignore missteps, Dancer in the Dark is harrowing, inventive, and overwhelming enough that the film itself is even harder to dismiss. Between her performance and the incredible music (which compiles everyday sounds into homogenous music), this is a masterclass of Björk’s excellence as an artist. She is believable even at her most explosive and emotional. Her pain radiates off of the screen and into your soul. Björk is absolutely perfect as Selma, with one of the most powerful performances of the new millennium. While that does affect how I feel about the film as a whole (a film where someone goes through hell and back feels exploitation-heavy when the characters can easily avoid the suffering they endure), I still am in awe of its best parts (which, to be fair, are a majority of the picture). Dancer in the Dark finds it convenient to make Selma a pushover where she easily doesn’t need to be. Bess is well intentioned but extremely easy to manipulate in Breaking the Waves (Von Trier’s greatest film), but the entire film devotes itself to this premise. I get that Selma has a “golden heart” (as described by the anthological trilogy name of Von Trier’s that Dancer in the Dark is a part of), but that shouldn’t make her meek or naive. In an otherwise powerful film, it’s some serious underwriting that always pulls me out of the moment. It’s as if the film folds so she doesn’t defend herself (or even attempt to: the one trial scene where she has a chance to state her claim and doesn’t is forever a sour point for me, because there’s no reasonable explanation as to why she wouldn’t have said a single thing, even if no one believed her). My biggest gripe in a film that I otherwise love (actually adore) and find to be so inventive is how weak Selma’s character is represented during these times. Case in point: her life turns for the worse, and Dancer in the Dark becomes a completely different movie where Selma has to defend herself. She imagines the machine and city sounds to be the melodies of her own life’s musical, and of course Björk is the perfect star for this kind of a film the soundtrack Selmasongs is quite excellent (then again, I’m speaking as someone who would proudly claim that Björk is one of their favourite musicians of all time).Īs the film carries on, Selma’s vision worsens, and she gets into a lot of trouble when she runs into a number of obstacles (of which I won’t give away). During the day, she works as hard as she can to try and save up money for an operation that will prevent her son’s vision from deteriorating like hers is. Selma loves musicals, and always leaves on the second-to-last song, so the show will never end. She’s legally blind by the time the film starts, and she has her coworker and best friend Kathy (Catherine Deneuve) recite to her what goes on in the films that they attend. Her condition is hereditary, and her son’s vision is bound to worsen to the point of blindness like hers. Lars von Trier’s stripped down musical stars the brilliant artist Björk as Selma: a factory worker whose eyesight is degenerating. If you aren’t aware of this, you will be: no musical is heavier, darker, or more depressing than Dancer in the Dark. Then there are the darker musicals, and some may point to Sweeney Todd when you bring this up. The cinematic musical is usually reserved for great forms of escapism: particularly happy, blissful reexaminations of life.
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