Rating – no stars


Lars Von Trier has serious issues… sadly he decided to share them with us. As Anti Christ begins, his name alone, (not even attributed to the role of directing) lights up the screen for a pretentiously long time. One must question the reason for this films existence. The bleak story of a couple who loose their young son in a tragic accident, then try to deal with the guilt. It clearly aims for a demographic with higher expectations than Hostel style “gore porn” but I’m struggling to take it seriously. The graphic violence is extreme in the most repulsive and jarring way imaginable. But it feels so arbitrary it caused most of the audience to laugh loudly. The films underlying theme suggests a warped view of women and the natural world. One scene has Willem Defoe’s character brutally punching a crow into a bloody pulp, only for it to come back to life over and over again. Who would feel the need to depict woodland creatures with such mistrust and distain? Just wait until you see what he has in store for the poor bloody fox! If I was a Daily Mail reader I’d be calling for them to “ban this sick filth!” But that’s not my problem, it’s just a bad movie. It’s excruciatingly dull for the most part but interspersed with ugly images, so hideous they have no reason to exist. Von Trier offers no justification or explanations. There are some things the human brain doesn’t need to see and I’m pretty sure close up genital mutilation (with scissors) is one of them! When it comes to nudity on film, I sometimes think about its significance to the project in question. I guess it’s a big decision for an actor to make. Yet if it feels necessary and integral to the narrative, I suppose that alone is compensation for sharing their body with the world, immortalised on the silver screen for eternity. Right now Willem Dafoe must feel like a bit of a tit. Now everyone knows he has a stumpy fuzzy cock, but what else does he have to show for it?

In fairness, Antichrist does feature a dozen or so beautifully composed dreamlike shots. But in the end, this is the work of a miserable, angry little man with a heart which pumps raw sewage through his twisted veins. F*** you Lars, whatever you’re selling, I ain’t buying.


~ by thewholebuffalo on August 11, 2009.

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