The film Dogville, as reviewed in four chapters and a prologue.
I've only seen one previous film by Lars von Trier. His Dancer in the Dark got my attention because of how weird it sounded: a musical, shot on digital video, starring Bjork? All dark and serious and depressing? What? I also knew von Trier through Dogme95, the filmmaking technique he pioneered that strives to remove the "artifice" from films. No unnatural lights are allowed, no importing of props, no set dressing, no violence. Yes, he was one of those kinds of filmmakers. An "artiste." He sounded unbearably pretentious, and Dancer in the Dark fit those expectations. Yes, Bjork was brilliant, but the film itself was an endless dirge that dragged until you just wanted to shut it off and forget it existed. Of course, I read numerous positive reviews, which made me feel like I'd missed something underneath the tuneless songs and relentlessly depressing storyline. Was there really more to von Trier that I hadn't seen? Or was he just a pretentious bastard?
Which brings us to Dogville. I read about it, and, again, I'm struck by the weirdness, and how all that Dogme stuff about shedding artifice is thrown totally out the window: the whole film is set on a blank stage, suspended in blackness. Labels on the floor, like ELM ST. and GOOSEBERRY BUSHES, telling you where everything is supposed to be. Characters miming opening doors, and pretending to pet the dog. It's Our Town: The Motion Picture! So I had to see it, if only to snicker and laugh at the ridiculousness. I mean, invisible dogs? Come on!
in which we meet the cast
It doesn't start out with much promise. Sure enough, the whole town of Dogville is sketched out on the floor, like unfinished architectural plans. There's a narrator, John Hurt, who describes everything in explicit detail. And I mean everything: when Tom looks around, angry, the narrator will say, "Tom looked around, angry." There are chapter stops and title cards, Kill Bill-style; the one that opens the film announces we are about to watch "the film Dogville, as told in nine chapters and a prologue." The pretention is smeared on pretty thick. As I said: not very promising.
The town of Dogville is barely a town at all: it's merely the end of a street, sitting at the mouth of an abandoned silver mine, way up in "the Rocky Mountains of the US of A," the narrator tells us, only accessable by a single road. It's the middle of the Great Depression, and the town's residents are doing their best to get by in tough times. Chuck (Stellan Skarsgard: Exorcist: The Beginning) picks apples in the orchard in the valley, coming home to growl at his seven children and intellectual wife, Vera (Patricia Clarkson). Ben (Zeljiko Ivanek), a truck driver, lives in his garage and puffs up his own importance by constantly referring to "the freight industry." Ma Ginger (Lauren Bacall) runs the town store and tends to her gooseberry bushes. Liz (Chloe Sevigny) works with her parents grinding glasses (to make them look more expensive than they are) and reluctantly watches after her brother, Bill (Jeremy Davies), who is "dumb, and he [knows] it." Martha (Siobhan Hogan) lives in the mission keeping up the place and practicing the organ until a new preacher arrives, which probably won't happen.
And there are the Edisons: Tom Sr. (Phillip Baker Hall), an elderly doctor who lives off his pension; and his son, Tom Jr. (Paul Bettany), a "writer," in the sense that he wants to write, not in the sense that he's actually written anything. Tom spends his days wandering the streets...well, street of Dogville, dreaming of how his bold, striking philosophies will one day earn him the praises of the world. He wants to educate the town on how the world should be, to criticize their self-centered behavior, to tell them they should all help people out to this country a better place. He calls regular town meetings to lecture the citizens on that very subject, only to find his audience less than receptive. Tom thinks words aren't enough -- he needs to illustrate.
You can see where this is all going, can't you? It seems Dogville is just begging for a New and Mysterious Visitor to arrive and show them what Tom's been trying to tell them all along. One night, Tom hears gunshots down in the valley, and soon thereafter, a beautiful woman named Grace (Nicole Kidman: The Hours) strolls into town, hiding from men in long black cars offering big rewards for her capture. Tom decides to hide her in Dogville, and to use her as his illustration: can the citizens of the town, who claim to "love human beings," protect and embrace Grace, despite the risk to themselves? They agree to give Grace two weeks to prove herself.
in which I love Nicole Kidman, but wonder how this movie can last three hours
If Lars von Trier is good at anything -- other than coming off as pretentious and using quality digital cameras to maximum effect -- it's getting great performances out of his actresses. Bjork was magnificent in Dancer in the Dark, and Nicole Kidman is equally good here. She gives Grace a generous humility, a spark of humanity, courage and optimism underneath her constant fear of discovery. Tom's idea is for Grace to sell herself to the town by offering "physical labor," doing the things the residents of Dogville can't -- or won't -- do for themselves. Though all of them claim there's nothing she can do for them, they each eventually find a task for her to manage -- something they think "should be done, but isn't necessary."
Again: you can almost see where this is going, can't you? The girl with the sweet smile and generous nature is at first rejected, but grows on the town day by day. She even bonds with the old blind hermit and warms up the icy Chuck. And she and Tom, yes, begin to fall in love. Don't get me wrong: it's very good, this part of the movie. Well-acted, each of the characters endearing in their own way. The non-existent set becomes like those black bars at the edges of the screen when you watch a movie in letterbox -- after a while, you don't even notice them.
But I'd read that this movie was three hours long. And the plot seemed to be winding to a close roughly halfway through. So I began to wonder: where could von Trier be going?
And then he takes his carefully constructed, intimate little movie, and blows it all to hell.
in which Dogville bares its teeth
Many, many reviewers -- luckily none of the ones I read beforehand -- went out of their way to spoil the events of the second half of Dogville, but I will do no such thing. If you haven't seen the movie yet, don't worry -- I'm not giving any plot points away.
But Dogville -- and Dogville -- turns a little colder as it passes the 90-minute mark. The sweet, down-home, good-old-small-town stuff from earlier begins to erode. Kidman's performance reaches another level here, as does Paul Bettany, who achieves near-brilliance during the film's final third. Von Trier finally reveals his intentions: not some lukewarm Our Town: The Motion Picture, but a brutal, vicious, unforgiving look at human cruelty. Not in a grand, epic, Holocaust way, but in a personal and individual way. How ugly and mean human beings can be to one another. John Hurt's narration, which sounded kind of cheesy and sentimental at the beginning, now sounds sharply sarcastic. And everything changes.
That this very mean film takes place very much in America -- one scene features the townsfolk celebrating the Fourth of July and singing "America the Beautiful" -- has left von Trier (a Dane) open to all sorts of accusations regarding his "America-bashing." (The stunningly audacious closing credit sequence is an even broader shot at the stars 'n' stripes.) I don't think he is bashing America, really -- though we're a pretty easy target at the moment, his main focus is humanity in general. Are we truly capable of selflessness? When the powerless are given a taste of power, are they able to resist it? Or can they use it wisely, or will they abuse it for their own gains? And who has the responsibility to punish those who do abuse their positions? Does one good turn deserve another -- an eye for an eye? Dogville asks those questions, and more, and the answers on display are not heartwarming.
in which my mind is blown, von Trier wins, and the review ends
In fact, the film's final thirty minutes are nothing short of blood-chilling. Again, I refuse to give anything away, but von Trier manages to, again, make us reconsider all that came before. The final shreds of humanity and deceny are sheared and ripped away in a harrowing finale that is truly unlike anything I've seen. And as the set is cleared and the credits begin to roll, Dogville is shown to be not some shallow, pretentious artsy hackjob (like Steven Soderberg's Full Frontal), but a triumph of the artform. Even the height of the pretention, the invisible set, is used, finally, to make a stunning point about the hollowness of the small town and its residents.
2004 has been filled with excellent films, but Dogville achieves a power and resonance that none have matched so far.
Rating: *****
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