Tuesday, December 21, 2004
I watched "Dogville" last night
It would be inaccurate to say I do not know my audience. In fact, at most two of you would ever even consider seeing “Dogville” – even after reading this review. Still, I feel compelled to write down my thoughts about it before they go away.
“Dogville” stars Nicole Kidman and a host of other known actors in a sort of experimental treatise on Americanism (of which, you’ll learn very quickly if you choose to check "Dogville" out, it is highly critical). It was directed by Lars von Trier, who is widely known for portraying women as modern martyrs in “Breaking the Waves” and “Dancer in the Dark.” If you had any interest in the film prior to reading this, you probably already knew that.
I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, too. I had seen “Breaking the Waves” and “Dancer in the Dark” and enjoyed both – if it’s appropriate to use the word “enjoy” to describe a positive reaction to films of such a dark, excruciating nature. My favorite film critic (Esquire’s Mike D’Angelo) has gushed about “Dogville” since it was released, and in all likelihood will top his Top Ten list for 2004. In addition to D’Angelo, I had read plenty of other criticism of the film. It quickly became clear to me that “Dogville” was a polarizer – the kind of love-it-or-hate-it abstract experimental film I usually love.
Thirteen hours later, I’m not entirely sure what I think.
Much of “Dogville” is filled with purposefully flat, expository dialog. Nonetheless, Kidman and the rest of the cast are terrific. In a way, it’s exactly like saying Uma Thurman is terrific in the “Kill Bill” films, despite Tarantino’s stilted dialog. Or Alex Baldwin in Mamet’s “Glengarry Glen Ross.” Good actors can breathe life into any material, no matter how stylized it is (and that’s not to say Tarantino, Mamet, or von Trier, for that matter, are weak writers – just writers with very distinctive voices).
One image in “Dogville” was particularly disturbing. About halfway through the film, the residents of Dogville fasten to Kidman’s character, Grace, a collar with an old-fashioned doorbell (the kind with a bell hung on a curved bar above a door, so it rings when the door is opened), chained to a heavy iron wheel that she drags laboriously behind her everywhere she goes. Grace spends half the film wearing this ridiculous get-up, which adds a literal weight to the metaphorical one set up by the film. It’s both absurd and profoundly disturbing – and it’s impossible not to notice the contrast between Kidman’s beauty and the sheer ugliness of this “restraining device.”
The use of a prop like the doorbell-chain stands out in a film in which, for the most part, there are no props. The whole film takes place on an isolated black soundstage, with chalk outlines and labels marking the set locations. When Grace is raped by one of the residents of Dogville, von Trier shoots the act from down the “street.” The foreground is littered with townspeople going about their business, while the rape is occurring (in full view of the viewer) behind the closed (but invisible) door of one of the homes in Dogville. It’s as unsettling a minute of film as you’re likely to see in any movie, ever.
All of it is designed to build, over the course of three hours, to an exceptionally violent conclusion, which includes at least one totally unexpected Hollywood star cameo. Then, almost without warning (in fact, we are warned by placards that we are watching the final chapter, and we know the movie is pretty much over at this point, but we’re still unprepared for it), this stark, music-less production cuts away loudly to David Bowie’s “Young Americans,” superimposed over a parade of gruesome snapshots depicting America’s seamy underbelly. The credits roll.
Me, I just sat and stared. Then, later, I dreamed about it – which is very rare for me. That would indicate that something about it sunk in. Still, I’m not sure what exactly it was.
If any of you decides to watch this movie, I am dying to know what you think. And if you liked it and want to see something in a similar vein, I highly recommend “Happiness” (not for the emotionally fragile, nor the politically correct, but definitely FOR someone who can laugh at extremely dark humor), and “Gerry” (which, considering it’s a movie containing about twenty total lines of dialog about two guys called Gerry (played by Matt Damon and Casey Affleck) who get lost on a hike, had the inexplicable ability to imprint itself so deeply in my mind that I constantly find myself referring to it, usually when I am overwhelmed by something completely unrelated to either being lost or hiking).
Post your replies here. Don’t be shy.
“Dogville” stars Nicole Kidman and a host of other known actors in a sort of experimental treatise on Americanism (of which, you’ll learn very quickly if you choose to check "Dogville" out, it is highly critical). It was directed by Lars von Trier, who is widely known for portraying women as modern martyrs in “Breaking the Waves” and “Dancer in the Dark.” If you had any interest in the film prior to reading this, you probably already knew that.
I thought I knew what I was getting myself into, too. I had seen “Breaking the Waves” and “Dancer in the Dark” and enjoyed both – if it’s appropriate to use the word “enjoy” to describe a positive reaction to films of such a dark, excruciating nature. My favorite film critic (Esquire’s Mike D’Angelo) has gushed about “Dogville” since it was released, and in all likelihood will top his Top Ten list for 2004. In addition to D’Angelo, I had read plenty of other criticism of the film. It quickly became clear to me that “Dogville” was a polarizer – the kind of love-it-or-hate-it abstract experimental film I usually love.
Thirteen hours later, I’m not entirely sure what I think.
Much of “Dogville” is filled with purposefully flat, expository dialog. Nonetheless, Kidman and the rest of the cast are terrific. In a way, it’s exactly like saying Uma Thurman is terrific in the “Kill Bill” films, despite Tarantino’s stilted dialog. Or Alex Baldwin in Mamet’s “Glengarry Glen Ross.” Good actors can breathe life into any material, no matter how stylized it is (and that’s not to say Tarantino, Mamet, or von Trier, for that matter, are weak writers – just writers with very distinctive voices).
One image in “Dogville” was particularly disturbing. About halfway through the film, the residents of Dogville fasten to Kidman’s character, Grace, a collar with an old-fashioned doorbell (the kind with a bell hung on a curved bar above a door, so it rings when the door is opened), chained to a heavy iron wheel that she drags laboriously behind her everywhere she goes. Grace spends half the film wearing this ridiculous get-up, which adds a literal weight to the metaphorical one set up by the film. It’s both absurd and profoundly disturbing – and it’s impossible not to notice the contrast between Kidman’s beauty and the sheer ugliness of this “restraining device.”
The use of a prop like the doorbell-chain stands out in a film in which, for the most part, there are no props. The whole film takes place on an isolated black soundstage, with chalk outlines and labels marking the set locations. When Grace is raped by one of the residents of Dogville, von Trier shoots the act from down the “street.” The foreground is littered with townspeople going about their business, while the rape is occurring (in full view of the viewer) behind the closed (but invisible) door of one of the homes in Dogville. It’s as unsettling a minute of film as you’re likely to see in any movie, ever.
All of it is designed to build, over the course of three hours, to an exceptionally violent conclusion, which includes at least one totally unexpected Hollywood star cameo. Then, almost without warning (in fact, we are warned by placards that we are watching the final chapter, and we know the movie is pretty much over at this point, but we’re still unprepared for it), this stark, music-less production cuts away loudly to David Bowie’s “Young Americans,” superimposed over a parade of gruesome snapshots depicting America’s seamy underbelly. The credits roll.
Me, I just sat and stared. Then, later, I dreamed about it – which is very rare for me. That would indicate that something about it sunk in. Still, I’m not sure what exactly it was.
If any of you decides to watch this movie, I am dying to know what you think. And if you liked it and want to see something in a similar vein, I highly recommend “Happiness” (not for the emotionally fragile, nor the politically correct, but definitely FOR someone who can laugh at extremely dark humor), and “Gerry” (which, considering it’s a movie containing about twenty total lines of dialog about two guys called Gerry (played by Matt Damon and Casey Affleck) who get lost on a hike, had the inexplicable ability to imprint itself so deeply in my mind that I constantly find myself referring to it, usually when I am overwhelmed by something completely unrelated to either being lost or hiking).
Post your replies here. Don’t be shy.
posted by Bill Purdy, 1:33 PM
3 Buffaloes were bitter enough to post comments:
Love your reviews, although some of the movies you see I may never consider. However, I am growing more and more weary of the recycled garbage on TV and in the theaters so it's nice to have you around to keep me grounded. I think Katy and I will start having Independent Movie Night when we get a new house. You know, invite over a few couples, have a nice dinner and some wine, and relax by watching Confessions of a Dangerous Mind or Hedwig and the Angry Inch. Anything we can do to pull attention AWAY from Paris Hilton.
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
In defense of "Happiness," while I agree that the dog-eats-sperm scene was WAYYYY over the top, I would argue it was intentionally so. As were Philip Seymour Hoffman's character's vitriolic phone-rape scenes, and Dylan Baker Thomas's portrayal of a likeable pedophile. "Happiness" is a deliriously ugly film about deeply ugly people that dares the viewer to enjoy its subversiveness. Your distaste for the film doesn't make you emotionally fragile, Matt, but I'd say it does make you at least a wee bit PC. No, but really, how are things at church?
(And... as I recall, I did NOT originally recommend "Happiness" to you. We were at the video store in DC and I picked it out based only on critical buzz and a cool illustration on the cover. I really had no idea exactly what we were getting ourselves into. In fact, we both saw it for the first time... together. And I still remember you writhing in PC agony like it was yesterday. I need to come up and visit if for no other reason so we can watch "Gerry" together. I can't wait to see the look on your face as you endure the 12-minute long tracking shot showing... nothing... but.. two lost guys... walking... in the desert... for twelve minutes. Twelve interminable minutes. Ah, cinematic bliss.)
(And... as I recall, I did NOT originally recommend "Happiness" to you. We were at the video store in DC and I picked it out based only on critical buzz and a cool illustration on the cover. I really had no idea exactly what we were getting ourselves into. In fact, we both saw it for the first time... together. And I still remember you writhing in PC agony like it was yesterday. I need to come up and visit if for no other reason so we can watch "Gerry" together. I can't wait to see the look on your face as you endure the 12-minute long tracking shot showing... nothing... but.. two lost guys... walking... in the desert... for twelve minutes. Twelve interminable minutes. Ah, cinematic bliss.)