Antichrist
November 26th 2009 00:16
Let me weep over
my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
And that I long,
and that I long for freedom!
Let me weep over
my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
The duel infringes
these images
of my sufferings
I pray for mercy,
for my sufferances,
I pray for mercy …
Grief, pain, despair … The Three Beggars will arrive eventually to claim what is rightfully theirs, but in the meantime, let chaos reign, let Nature run her wicked, malevolent course, let love be ruined, let the witches of contempt strangle the life-force from your battered, mutilated body, may you drown amongst the faceless hordes, and may the line between misogyny and misanthropy become as blurred and distorted as the knotted roots and cruel winds that writhe and howl through Eden’s wilderness …
Married couple He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) are making love, first in the shower, then up against the washing machine, then to the bed, where their mutual orgasms build … whilst their baby son, Nick (Storm Acheche Sahlstrom) manages to slip over the side of his cot, push open his babysafe gate, is briefly amused by the image of his parents rollicking around, then distracted by the open window and the snowflakes drifting in, climbs up onto the adjacent table, stands on the window sill, still clutching his teddy bear, and slips and falls two storeys to his death …
She is entrenched in mourning, unable to help herself. He is a therapist and makes it his mission to heal her, despite the conflicting work ethic. She was trying to complete her thesis which was angled on historical witch hunts, genocide and misogyny, He insists they return to her place of fear, Eden; their cabin in the woods where she wrote, to confront Nature, both inside and out. It is here that the demons inside profligate with the demons outside and the true nature of evil; what is real and imagined is revealed, yet remains hidden …
She is suffering from Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, a form of child abuse in which a parent induces symptoms of affliction on a child in order to seek attention and obtain sympathy from elsewhere. She allows her child to die so that she will receive the attention she craves from her husband. The true nature of her state of mind, her request to work alone accompanied by her son and her acute grief is revealed later through photographs, a medical examiner’s letter and a flashback. He greatest fear is realised, her husband becomes the scapegoat – the Antichrist …
But He discovers her journal in the cabin’s attic which reveals explicitly the damage already done by something far more frightening; an oppressive infiltration of ancient superstition and mythology that has caused irreparable injury to Her well-being. He is not skilled enough in his therapy to deal with her moral distortion and rational disintegration. The darkness of nature, both human and animal, closes in …
Lars Von Trier continues his steady assault on modern cinema by fusing elements of pure storytelling with abstract expressionism; the art film as cinematic emotional, psychological and physical purge, entwined within traditional narrative structures that have been twisted, bent, re-tooled and re-built. He is a maverick; indulgent and visionary, he is an artist; confused and compelled, and he polarises audiences and critics like only the bravest and most interesting filmmakers can.
Antichrist (2009), which takes its name from a book by Friedrich Nietzsche, is Lars Von Trier’s horror movie. He wanted to make something that would shock his dead mother. He was suffering from depression and the process of making the movie was his own form of therapy. He watched numerous Japanese horror movies (some I’m sure more visceral and disturbing than Antichrist) and researched grief, therapy, and misogyny. Like previous films, most notably Breaking the Waves (another movie saturated in the ruins of despair and the power of healing) he separates the narrative into chapters, complete with prologue and epilogue. He breaks cinematic convention by injecting literary and artistic devices; he dedicates Antichrist to the late Russian master of existentialist grief, Andrei Tarkovsky.
Much controversy surrounds Antichrist for a moment depicting graphic genital mutilation and it’s supposed pre-occupation with misogyny. It received a special anti-award from the ecumenical jury at Cannes, which typically awards a film that promotes spiritual and humanist values, yet decided to award Antichrist an anti-award for its misogynistic views … go figure. It also awarded Gainsbourg with the Best Actress award, which she definitely deserved.
The violence is confronting and unusual for mainstream cinema, but Lars Von Trier has specifically made a horror movie, a genre deliberately designed to manipulate and shock, horrify and mortify. But Antichrist is less about misogyny and more about the unconditional realm of tragedy and base human nature: personal suffering and misanthropy. The focus is dual-split; She is the wife, the mother, a manipulator, and a victim. He is the husband, the father, a manipulator, and the villain. Lars Von Trier twists the genre into a fascinating perversion where She first appears to be the most damaged soul and He the healer, but later He becomes victimised and She becomes the attacker, but by movie’s end the roles have been reversed again into something complex and disturbing, fractured, yet creepily cyclic …
Lars Von Trier layers his movie with symbolism (the unsettling anamorphic shifts), drenches it in atmosphere (the Gaspar Noe-influenced use of subsonic sound), pushes the mainstream envelope by including graphic sexual intercourse, female masturbation, an erect penis ejaculating blood, and clitoral circumcision, but also fills it with images and sequences of sublime beauty. Antichrist is not designed to titillate in the conventional way that horror movies do, it doesn’t scarify in the usual way that horror movies do, but it paints a profoundly affecting portrait of nightmarish imagery and emotion, an insular, claustrophobic study of desperation and violence, a compelling reflection of light and shadow diffused by the fragility of love, the spectre of death, and the duplicity of Nature.
Antichrist is the year’s most intriguing and provocative movie; by all means not to everyone’s taste, but certainly not reprehensible as the controversy suggests. Like Gaspar Noe’s Irreversible (2002), Antichrist will challenge your sensibilities, disturb with its unflinching descent into the darkness of the soul, but all within the framework of powerful, artistic filmmaking.
Here's the trailer:
my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
And that I long,
and that I long for freedom!
Let me weep over
my cruel fate,
And that I long for freedom!
The duel infringes
these images
of my sufferings
I pray for mercy,
for my sufferances,
I pray for mercy …
Grief, pain, despair … The Three Beggars will arrive eventually to claim what is rightfully theirs, but in the meantime, let chaos reign, let Nature run her wicked, malevolent course, let love be ruined, let the witches of contempt strangle the life-force from your battered, mutilated body, may you drown amongst the faceless hordes, and may the line between misogyny and misanthropy become as blurred and distorted as the knotted roots and cruel winds that writhe and howl through Eden’s wilderness …
Married couple He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) are making love, first in the shower, then up against the washing machine, then to the bed, where their mutual orgasms build … whilst their baby son, Nick (Storm Acheche Sahlstrom) manages to slip over the side of his cot, push open his babysafe gate, is briefly amused by the image of his parents rollicking around, then distracted by the open window and the snowflakes drifting in, climbs up onto the adjacent table, stands on the window sill, still clutching his teddy bear, and slips and falls two storeys to his death …
She is entrenched in mourning, unable to help herself. He is a therapist and makes it his mission to heal her, despite the conflicting work ethic. She was trying to complete her thesis which was angled on historical witch hunts, genocide and misogyny, He insists they return to her place of fear, Eden; their cabin in the woods where she wrote, to confront Nature, both inside and out. It is here that the demons inside profligate with the demons outside and the true nature of evil; what is real and imagined is revealed, yet remains hidden …
She is suffering from Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy, a form of child abuse in which a parent induces symptoms of affliction on a child in order to seek attention and obtain sympathy from elsewhere. She allows her child to die so that she will receive the attention she craves from her husband. The true nature of her state of mind, her request to work alone accompanied by her son and her acute grief is revealed later through photographs, a medical examiner’s letter and a flashback. He greatest fear is realised, her husband becomes the scapegoat – the Antichrist …
But He discovers her journal in the cabin’s attic which reveals explicitly the damage already done by something far more frightening; an oppressive infiltration of ancient superstition and mythology that has caused irreparable injury to Her well-being. He is not skilled enough in his therapy to deal with her moral distortion and rational disintegration. The darkness of nature, both human and animal, closes in …
Lars Von Trier continues his steady assault on modern cinema by fusing elements of pure storytelling with abstract expressionism; the art film as cinematic emotional, psychological and physical purge, entwined within traditional narrative structures that have been twisted, bent, re-tooled and re-built. He is a maverick; indulgent and visionary, he is an artist; confused and compelled, and he polarises audiences and critics like only the bravest and most interesting filmmakers can.
Antichrist (2009), which takes its name from a book by Friedrich Nietzsche, is Lars Von Trier’s horror movie. He wanted to make something that would shock his dead mother. He was suffering from depression and the process of making the movie was his own form of therapy. He watched numerous Japanese horror movies (some I’m sure more visceral and disturbing than Antichrist) and researched grief, therapy, and misogyny. Like previous films, most notably Breaking the Waves (another movie saturated in the ruins of despair and the power of healing) he separates the narrative into chapters, complete with prologue and epilogue. He breaks cinematic convention by injecting literary and artistic devices; he dedicates Antichrist to the late Russian master of existentialist grief, Andrei Tarkovsky.
Much controversy surrounds Antichrist for a moment depicting graphic genital mutilation and it’s supposed pre-occupation with misogyny. It received a special anti-award from the ecumenical jury at Cannes, which typically awards a film that promotes spiritual and humanist values, yet decided to award Antichrist an anti-award for its misogynistic views … go figure. It also awarded Gainsbourg with the Best Actress award, which she definitely deserved.
The violence is confronting and unusual for mainstream cinema, but Lars Von Trier has specifically made a horror movie, a genre deliberately designed to manipulate and shock, horrify and mortify. But Antichrist is less about misogyny and more about the unconditional realm of tragedy and base human nature: personal suffering and misanthropy. The focus is dual-split; She is the wife, the mother, a manipulator, and a victim. He is the husband, the father, a manipulator, and the villain. Lars Von Trier twists the genre into a fascinating perversion where She first appears to be the most damaged soul and He the healer, but later He becomes victimised and She becomes the attacker, but by movie’s end the roles have been reversed again into something complex and disturbing, fractured, yet creepily cyclic …
Lars Von Trier layers his movie with symbolism (the unsettling anamorphic shifts), drenches it in atmosphere (the Gaspar Noe-influenced use of subsonic sound), pushes the mainstream envelope by including graphic sexual intercourse, female masturbation, an erect penis ejaculating blood, and clitoral circumcision, but also fills it with images and sequences of sublime beauty. Antichrist is not designed to titillate in the conventional way that horror movies do, it doesn’t scarify in the usual way that horror movies do, but it paints a profoundly affecting portrait of nightmarish imagery and emotion, an insular, claustrophobic study of desperation and violence, a compelling reflection of light and shadow diffused by the fragility of love, the spectre of death, and the duplicity of Nature.
Antichrist is the year’s most intriguing and provocative movie; by all means not to everyone’s taste, but certainly not reprehensible as the controversy suggests. Like Gaspar Noe’s Irreversible (2002), Antichrist will challenge your sensibilities, disturb with its unflinching descent into the darkness of the soul, but all within the framework of powerful, artistic filmmaking.
Here's the trailer:
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Comment by JohnDoe
Film & TV on DVD
As usual I only read the first and last paragraph for fear of spoilers, but that is more than enough to get me eager.
Comment by Bryn
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Comment by Catherine Stebbins
Cinema Enthusiast
Thoughts from a Cinephile
Thoughts from a TV Watcher
Comment by Bryn
Horrorphile