Kirsten Dunst, Charlotte Gainsbourg, Kiefer Sutherland
Theatre Release
May 26, 2011 by Magnolia Pictures
After an introductory montage that will draw numerous comparisons to The Tree of Life (which also interwove personal and cosmic narratives), Melancholia settles down to become what appears to be a conventional drama about a dysfunctional family. For the first ninety minutes or so we think this will be a family story about a chronically depressed woman, Justine (Kirsten Dunst), and about how her family and loved ones interact with her on the evening of her wedding.
The wedding is an elaborate affair funded by Justine's sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and her rich husband John (Kiefer Sutherland), at a posh resort, complete with an eighteen-hole golf course. Justine has a smile on her face through most of it, and if her happiness seems a bit strained, we chalk it up to the stress of being at the center of an elaborate production. Gradually we see that the problems run a little deeper. Her parents hate each other and use the wedding reception to vent their bitterness in a very public fashion. Her sister and brother-in-law are supportive, but he can barely conceal his impatience at her deep reservoirs of sadness that can't be solved with his checkbook. When Justine makes a detour between the wedding and the reception to see her horse, she seems quirky. When she cuts out in the middle of the reception to take a bath, she seems selfish. When she cuts short her groom in mid-wedding night consummation to go roaming the golf-course in her wedding dress, we understand that she is manic.
Kirsten Dunst as Justine
Events are neither as simple nor as personal in scope as they first appear, however. The morning after the wedding night we find out, almost in passing, that a disaster of epic proportions may (or may not, if one has faith in scientists) be imminent. One of the many ways in which the personal narrative echoes and mirrors the global background is the way in which bombshells are introduced somewhat casually; we are first told about a global peril in a casual aside that we more readily accept because it is hard to believe that most people would continue living day to day as though no exceptional circumstances were happening.
Kiefer Sutherland as John
That lack of a reaction from all except those who are labeled too easily frightened or depressed is part of the film's point. We have become so inured to threats of personal or global destruction that dismissing them as paranoia seems the only sane, rational response. Media analyst Neil Postman once opined that it is impossible to look at the world as a serious place when a newscaster can solemnly inform viewers about a military study touting the inevitability of nuclear war and be followed by a commercial for Burger King.
Unlike so many modernist and postmodernist apocalyptic tales, however, Melancholia doesn't wrap its absurdities in (black) comedy to make them go down more palatably. Death may or may not be on the horizon for this family on this night, but it is coming for everyone, eventually. Justine's repulsion at her employer, an ad executive plying her for a byline on her wedding night, is not just understandable, it is appropriate. Yet she is also too smart and self aware not to realize that her brother-in-law's lavish wedding reception on her behalf is, in many ways, as crass and as futile an attempt to buy happiness as any advertising campaign she participated in.
Michael (Alexander SkarsgÅrd) and Justine on their wedding day
Melancholia is not a particularly hard film to review, but it is a hard film to assign a rating to—for one reason: it is a well executed, gorgeously shot, perfectly acted film from a renowned auteur-director in top form that, when read correctly, appears to embrace and illustrate a world view that I find, quite simply, wrong. The distinction between depression and despair is well worth making, but as the film moves toward its foreordained (for those who pay close attention to the introduction) conclusion, all courage, dignity, and integrity are given to the character willing to admit that we are alone in the universe and that death is simply the end. The film appears to reference Andrei Tarkovsky's Offret (The Sacrifice) but reconstitute it so that the moral and spiritual responses to facing extinction (personal or corporate) are reduced to psychological pastiche. (Von Trier dedicated his previous film, 2009's Antichrist, to Tarkovsky).
Justine, desperate seeking peace of mind
One might argue that von Trier is simply depicting nihilism, not championing it. Given the director's own, well publicized battles with depression, however, it is hard not to see Justine as an author surrogate. Then again, it is hard to believe that Melancholia came from the same director who gave us Breaking the Waves. As with most of von Trier's work, there is so much to admire here. There are images of almost archetypal, eternal beauty, and in an industry that too often plays depression for laughs, it is laudable that we get a sensitive, empathetic portrait of those who struggle to keep the weight of despair at bay.
That being said, it is equally hard to champion a film which appears to tell us those who suffer the most are the ones who see the world best and that can't seem to make a distinction between loving the world and loving life.
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Talk About It
Discussion starters
What is the difference, if any, between depression and despair? Which character(s) in the film manifest which states?
As the threat of destruction approaches, Justine tells Claire that her plan for meeting their fate is "s--t." What is Justine's plan? Is it really any different? What does it say about the film and its intentions that Justine is looked to for guidance as catastrophe approaches?
Is Tom's faith in science a bit of a straw man in the film? Or, does the film accurately depict the ways in which modern people—who might otherwise pride themselves in religious or spiritual skepticism—blindly accept what authority tells them rather than what they can apparently verify with their own eyes?
Why is the film divided into two sections? What is the relationship of the first section dealing with Justine's wedding to the second half, which deals primarily with melancholia? Would the meaning of the film have been altered if we were only given the second half?
The Family Corner
For parents to consider
Melancholia is rated R for some graphic nudity, sexual content and language. Dunst has two nude scenes, both brief. In one she is seen mostly from the back as her character's sister attempts to get her into a bathtub. The second is frontal from the waist up as her character is spotted by another character looking at the night sky. There is one scene of simulated sexual intercourse during which the characters are shot from a distance and mostly clothed. Characters drink alcohol throughout and there is some profane or obscene language. Interpersonal violence is limited, but the set up involves the threat of imminent death. Not recommended for younger viewers.
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Melancholia
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Kirsten Dunst as JustineKiefer Sutherland as JohnMichael (Alexander SkarsgÅrd) and Justine on their wedding dayJustine, desperate seeking peace of mind