Antichrist reviewed
There’s no doubt about it – Antichrist is sure to be one of the most divisive movies of 2009, a love-it-or-hate-it experience you’ll be thinking about long after leaving the cinema.
Antichrist, from celebrated Danish director Lars von Trier, is an arty film with a very high shock factor. Audience stamina is tested even during the opening sequence, when a dreamy, slo-mo sex scene between the film’s two stars (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) is interrupted within 30 seconds by a close-up penetration shot normally reserved for hardcore pornography. Immediately the audience is keyed to the fact that they will continually be ripped from their comfort zone and taken to some very dark, very graphic places.
The plot for Antichrist is straightforward. After the tragic loss of their son, an unnamed husband (Dafoe) and wife (Gainsbough) have to contend with their sorrow and guilt. Concerned by the heavily drugged state of his wife, the therapist husband convinces her to disregard her psychiatrist’s diagnosis of “abnormal grief,” throw away her various medications and work through her anguish. Part of the treatment process involves retreating to Eden, the couple’s remote cabin in the woods. There, however, a greater horror is unleashed.
The first half of Antichrist is superb – centring on a tragedy lifted all too often from reality, but which mainstream cinema rarely has the guts to portray. The extremely hurtful things that Charlotte Gainsbourg says ring true as manifestations of her extreme sorrow.
Speaking of performances, Gainsbourg is quite superb in Antichrist. Her performance is fearless and she is apparently game for anything – even if it completely alienates her character from the audience. Gainsbourg’s performance won her the Best Actress award at this year’s Cannes Film Festival and it would be interesting to see if Academy voters have the courage to nominate her for an Oscar early next year.
As for Willem Dafoe, in Antichrist he has the rare opportunity to cast aside his creepy oddball persona and play a likeable figure. His character increasingly struggles to uphold his beloved principles of Reason and Logic as he is swamped by irrationality all around him.
It’s a pity that after such a strong start Antichrist becomes increasingly muddled in its second half, thematically and plot-wise. This has largely to do with Von Trier’s attempt to introduce an argument about the innate madness and evil of women, which doesn’t altogether work. Antichrist fares much better as a simple but nonetheless powerful examination of the horrors of mental illness.
This said, if Antichrist becomes less coherent once Gainsbourg and Dafoe reach Eden, it certainly becomes more visually potent. The film is packed with haunting images, as the beautiful and tranquil side of nature is continually twisted to reveal its disturbing and brutal underside.
Antichrist is also distinctly more shocking in its second half. Without giving too much away, let’s just say that Von Trier takes the term “torture porn” literally; pushing his film into a horror sub-genre populated by the likes of Hostel and Saw. Once again, though, Von Trier strains against cinema’s usual self-enforced limits, and even hardened horror movie fans may be shocked by the explicit content depicted.
It’s highly likely that cinema audiences will leave Antichrist befuddled and not altogether satisfied after such a stunning start to the movie. Regardless, the film is still an unnerving experience that lingers in your consciousness long after watching it. Definitely not for the squeamish, Antichrist is a rarity – an art house horror film for thinking adults, that leaves a genuine lasting impression.
Antichrist, from celebrated Danish director Lars von Trier, is an arty film with a very high shock factor. Audience stamina is tested even during the opening sequence, when a dreamy, slo-mo sex scene between the film’s two stars (Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg) is interrupted within 30 seconds by a close-up penetration shot normally reserved for hardcore pornography. Immediately the audience is keyed to the fact that they will continually be ripped from their comfort zone and taken to some very dark, very graphic places.
The plot for Antichrist is straightforward. After the tragic loss of their son, an unnamed husband (Dafoe) and wife (Gainsbough) have to contend with their sorrow and guilt. Concerned by the heavily drugged state of his wife, the therapist husband convinces her to disregard her psychiatrist’s diagnosis of “abnormal grief,” throw away her various medications and work through her anguish. Part of the treatment process involves retreating to Eden, the couple’s remote cabin in the woods. There, however, a greater horror is unleashed.
The first half of Antichrist is superb – centring on a tragedy lifted all too often from reality, but which mainstream cinema rarely has the guts to portray. The extremely hurtful things that Charlotte Gainsbourg says ring true as manifestations of her extreme sorrow.
Speaking of performances, Gainsbourg is quite superb in Antichrist. Her performance is fearless and she is apparently game for anything – even if it completely alienates her character from the audience. Gainsbourg’s performance won her the Best Actress award at this year’s Cannes Film Festival and it would be interesting to see if Academy voters have the courage to nominate her for an Oscar early next year.
As for Willem Dafoe, in Antichrist he has the rare opportunity to cast aside his creepy oddball persona and play a likeable figure. His character increasingly struggles to uphold his beloved principles of Reason and Logic as he is swamped by irrationality all around him.
It’s a pity that after such a strong start Antichrist becomes increasingly muddled in its second half, thematically and plot-wise. This has largely to do with Von Trier’s attempt to introduce an argument about the innate madness and evil of women, which doesn’t altogether work. Antichrist fares much better as a simple but nonetheless powerful examination of the horrors of mental illness.
This said, if Antichrist becomes less coherent once Gainsbourg and Dafoe reach Eden, it certainly becomes more visually potent. The film is packed with haunting images, as the beautiful and tranquil side of nature is continually twisted to reveal its disturbing and brutal underside.
Antichrist is also distinctly more shocking in its second half. Without giving too much away, let’s just say that Von Trier takes the term “torture porn” literally; pushing his film into a horror sub-genre populated by the likes of Hostel and Saw. Once again, though, Von Trier strains against cinema’s usual self-enforced limits, and even hardened horror movie fans may be shocked by the explicit content depicted.
It’s highly likely that cinema audiences will leave Antichrist befuddled and not altogether satisfied after such a stunning start to the movie. Regardless, the film is still an unnerving experience that lingers in your consciousness long after watching it. Definitely not for the squeamish, Antichrist is a rarity – an art house horror film for thinking adults, that leaves a genuine lasting impression.
Comments
"attempt to introduce an argument about the innate madness and evil of women"
I don't know why he bothered, we all know that already.
Gareth, ha ha, embittered single male takes the comment bait...
Embittered? From being single? Far from it lassie, there is an amazing sense of liberation, of relief. You don't even realize how many compromises you've made until you stop making them.
But women ARE evil and mad. It adds spice to the ride, lol.
And for the record, we're definitely all a little mad, although the evil is restricted to smaller percentage!
I may have given the wrong impression, I didn't mean that I dislike being in a couple, far from it. The "relief and sense of liberation" is more about ending a relationship that has been going south for a while. You make compromises to try to fix it but eventually it can become too much, you sacrifice too much to the relationship. When it ends and you stop making those compromises there is a sense of regaining "yourself".
I enjoy both states, single and coupled, they each have their advantages and disadvantages. I'd much rather be single than partnered with someone who isn't right, you just end up making each other miserable. And I'm a firm believer that you shouldn't rely on someone else for your happiness and fulfillment anyhow.