Melancholia Review

Melancholia tells the story about two sisters, Justine and Claire, and their mental instability. After an introduction of surreal, super-slow motion, mind-bogglingly beautiful shots, "Part One: Justine" begins. This first part is set at a luxurious, multimillion dollar estate, where Justine (played brilliantly by Kirsten Dunst) is having her wedding party, organized by her sister Claire. All seems well at first, but as the night progresses Justine becomes more and more moody and unstable.

(Spoiler Alert! The next two paragraphs contain significant spoilers) It becomes abundantly clear that she has some kind of mental illness. Her behavior becomes increasingly erratic (fighting with her boss, leaving the party for hours at a time, etc). She becomes less and less capable to do small, simple things like cutting the cake or just being around people. Claire remains clear minded and tries to make the evening work. Ultimately Justine breaks off with her husband that night and quits her job. Some time later she becomes so helpless and sluggish that she can hardly walk or get out of bed. Then begins "Part Two: Claire."

In Part Two Justine is living with her sister Claire, Claire’s husband Tom (Keifer Sutherland), and their young son. The plot then becomes about a giant planet called "Melancholia," which has been spotted and is on a trajectory towards Earth. As the planet draws nearer, Claire becomes more and more anxious, while Justine seems to gain strength. Tom tries to assure Claire that there is nothing to worry about, that the planet will just fly by, although he does harbor some doubts. The planet passes, but later is seen to be turning around and coming back towards Earth. Tom kills himself, and Claire starts to self-destruct. Justine becomes the voice of sanity and calmness. The son finds strength in Justine, and then they, along with Earth, are obliterated as Melancholia collides with our planet.

Lars Van Trier seems to want to show us the paradox of mental illness. During Part One, the viewer easily judges that Justine has mental problems, and that Claire is of sound mind. Claire is level headed and tries to make the evening run smoothly. She planned and ran this elaborate wedding party, while Justine seems incapable of even simply going through the motions. In Part Two however, the roles reverse, as Melancholia draws nearer Claire becomes less and less capable of rationality while Justine calmly embraces the inevitable. Who is crazy then? Who has mental illness? She who is calm and organized during a frivolous, meaningless formality or she who is calm and collected at the threshold of death and the destruction of all living? Which is the more important event? Which is the time to be clearheaded and rational? Van Trier wants us to think about these questions; the answers effectively destroy many of our predisposed notions of mental illness.

Lars Van Trier presents these themes of mental illness and the paradox of how we view it through unbelievable visual scenes and music (almost exclusively Wagner’s prelude to Tristian und Isolde). These scenes are highly symbolic and are open to interpretation, but a couple that struck me are first, when Justine lies naked, bathing in the light of Melancholia, and second, when Justine is walking in her wedding dress and is wrapped by roots around her ankles and legs. In the former, she seems to have found some kind of peace in the eerie blue light of Melancholia, as she lies exposed she seems to be whole. In the latter she is belabored and trapped, struggling to go through the normalness and responsibility of marriage. Another thing that struck me was the dual personality of Van Trier’s cinematography. There are two kinds of camera work in Melancholia: first the casual, liberal and often handheld camera scenes that highlight the humanity of the characters and capture unspoken emotions and facial expressions, and second the slow-motion, highly stylistic and artistic scenes that take the movie to a transcendent plane of atmosphere. Both styles are done extremely well and add to the distinct tone of Melancholia.

The acting lends greatly to the movie, particularly Kirsten Dunst’s nuanced performance. She is able to slide naturally from elated and happy to depressed and helpless. Her character has great depth, and she emanates her mental illness very effectively. Charlotte Gainsburg is also excellent as Claire, and even Keifer Sutherland (heavily subjected to typecast) gives a convincing performance as the highly successful, cold, confident, and hard working husband.

The most thrilling element of this movie is Lars Van Trier’s effectiveness in capturing the simultaneous wonder and fear of the catastrophe. Think about it: how wondrous and terrifying would it be if there was a giant planet flying past Earth? To see with our naked eye a scene only witnessed in science fiction movies and images from the Hubble telescope? I suggest seeing Melancholia in theaters or on blu-ray with a huge, hi-def TV and surround sound to maximize the effect and to fully immerse yourself in the situation.

With all of that being said, it is not quite a perfect movie. The movie as a whole is a little too self indulgent and there were times that I felt its length, as some scenes were overly dramatic and drawn out (think of Lord of the Rings). We will, however, be hearing about Melancholia come Oscar time, undoubtedly for Kirsten Dunst’s acting and perhaps even Van Trier’s masterful direction. I recommend Melancholia to lovers of cinema and those willing to take a risk on a film. It is one of the better films I’ve seen this year, and is a great break from the generic schlock that comes from Hollywood.