A Steadicam for Van Trier

DANCER IN THE DARK (2000)

GIVE LARS A STEADICAM

Director Lars Van Trier certainly knows how to infuriate, as well as entertain viewers. The first 30+ minutes of this film are bordering on being unwatchable. The jerky out-of-focus hand-held camera work comes off as sophmoric, ill-at-ease, poorly executed; terrible lighting, terrible angles...as if it was not story-boarded at all; like it was shot by a fifteen year old film student with an 8mm camera. A third of the audience at every viewing get motion sickness; like trying to read a paperback while movingin a car on a bumpy road. The theater where I viewed it, actually put up a sign warning people about the discomfort of the "cinematography".

One can forgive Trier for substituting Sweden for Washington state. After all, he is a Swedish director. But why would any artist, director, or cinematographer consciously choose to present an audience with a plethora of poorly composed shots. Yet, ironically, kudos go to whomever conceived of the musical numbers. One almost supposes that it was a second unit director who shot those scenes, because the cameras were fully under control; cranes were used, and multiple cameras.They looked great. The music seemed to spring directly out of the guts of factory machines, and the state of naivte and confusion in the mind of Bjork's characterSelma. Each of the musical numbers worked flawlessly, like gangbusters; very creative.

Trier has presented us with BREAKING THE WAVES, and on Swedish television THE KINGDOM [and for this one,Stephen King liked the concept well enough, he adapted it for a mini-series for American television]. The cinematography in these films was fine. But in this movie, in between the musical moments, one was resubmerged into poorly written dialogue, and the jumpy hand-held hell. Some audience members had to leave the theater, and they did not return.

Yes, I understand that Art is supposed to outrage and challenge us, and if that is the case, maybe this film deserved its Palm D'or from Cannes in 2000. But it does not change the fact that one has to have the constitution of a Russian weight lifter to ride out the celluloid chaff, in order to hang on with our teeth and arrive at the emotional heart of the film.

Ms. Bjork, the Swedish pop singer turned actress, was filmed as unflattering as possible; harsh washed-outlighting, little to no make-up, and bizarre camera angles. David Morse and Catherine Deneuve were both in the film as well, and they struggled to present a semblance of character within the absurd parameters set up by Trier. Yet, despite all the stomach churning and antagonism and bad writing and non-directing, Bjork presented us with a Selma that emerged triumphant. Yes, the character was beaten down, violated, cheated, framed, even destroyed, but her beautiful soul soared over us sprinkling a pure joy, a shower of white light, shards of pixie mist like angel dust; and we are left expended, spent, weeping, yet strangely uplifted.

Glenn Buttkus 2004