A Lars von Trier musical starring Bjork.
Let’s parse that summary to show why Dancer In The Dark should be approached with some trepidation.
If there is one thing I can say about the entirety of von Trier’s filmography, that would be it is provocative. Other than that, there are few consistencies to his work. That said, one word that doesn’t immediately come to mind is “musical”. Also, there are some of his films I am enthusiastic about (The Element Of Crime, Melancholia) and others where the pretentiousness is so overwhelming that my eyes roll until they nearly roll out of my head. Unfortunately, Dancer In The Dark is solidly in the latter.
If there is one thing I can say about the entirety of Bjork’s discography, that would be it is challenging. Other than that, there are few consistencies to her work. But one word that doesn’t immediately come to mind when thinking about Bjork is “actor”. Also, there are some of her albums I am enthusiastic about (Medulla, Post) and others where the pretentiousness is so overwhelming that my eyes roll until they nearly roll out of my head. Let’s just say Dancer In The Dark embraces some of her worst attributes.
You can look up the plot of the movie in about one second, so I feel no need to rehash it here. Instead, my autopsy of the film will be presented in a list of itemized aspects:
- The look. Around the turn of this century, filmmakers who should know better found themselves enamored with MiniDV. The allure of low-cost cameras and tapes led some of readily sacrifice image quality (SD and highly-pixelated) and good taste (why bother composing shots in advance when you could have 100 cameras capture the action?). A similar kind of reasoning has led to bad CGI choices that ruined some movies: let’s use the most cutting-edge technology, no matter how questionable it looks, and let’s have a virtual camera do all kinds of physically impossible moves around those effects, just because we can.
- The plot. I said I wouldn’t rehash the plot, but I will touch on it here briefly and as vaguely as possible. Basically, Dancer In The Dark is pure, uncut, street-grade melodrama so strong that Douglas Sirk wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole. Simply put, it is a terrible plot which is then weighed down even more by embarrassingly blatant jabs at some of von Trier’s impressions of Americans. I do not have a problem with the issues he addresses (in fact, I agree with him on many of his assessments), but he tries to bludgeon us with them. In particular, an incident involving a gun was so preposterous that I surprised myself by bursting out laughing.
- The songs. Both the songs and the choreography are OK. Overall, the songs are quite solid on their own, through the arrangements date them to the exact year of the movie’s production. If you liked Bjork’s 1997 album Homogenic, you will doubtlessly enjoy the sound of these tracks as well. But it is curious how so much could change in just three years that what was innovative in 1997 could be slightly dated in 2000. Also, one number that didn’t click for me involves a courtroom breaking into song, as if we needed any more evidence why the TV show Cop Rock was destined to fail.
- Bjork. Oh boy. Similar to Bowie, Bjork was always evolving and taking on different personas for each album, carrying that particular style and appearance through the related imagery associated with it. And so, like Bowie, that chameleon nature, combined with the high degree of comfortableness before a camera, leads one to suspect she would be a decent actress. She had even been in a movie before, 1986’s The Juniper Tree. One movie. Nearly a decade-and-a-half prior. I haven’t seen that film yet; however, I hope she is better there than here. It’s not like she’s terrible here, but I strongly suspected Catherine Deneuve was carrying the actress as much as she, in character, was providing assistance for Bjork’s visually-impaired character.
Naturally, Dancer In The Dark won the Palme d’Or at Cannes, with Bjork receiving Best Actress.
Dir: Lars von Trier
Starring: Bjork, Catherine Deneuve, David More
Watched on: Kanopy