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Review - Antichrist
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A woman (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and a man (Willem Dafoe) have sex in the shower. Lost in the throws of their passion, they fail to realize their young son escaping his from his crib. The child crawls to a windowsill, fascinated by the avalanche of snow falling to the ground below. He too falls. His death devastates the parents. He resorts to tears; she turns to anger, against her husband and herself. An accomplished therapist, he believes his wife must first confront her fears before she is able to finally overcome the tragedy. She is especially terrified of one thing, nature. She states that it is “Satan’s church.” They go to a cabin in the woods together. What happens there is beyond comprehension.
So goes the story of Lars von Trier’s Antichrist, a movie that can easily be described as offensive, repulsive and bat-sh*t insane. Notorious since its premiere at the Cannes Film Festival earlier this year, Antichrist is one of the rare examples of a movie that is genuinely unforgettable, no matter how much you wish it might be. For many, if not most, von Trier’s film will be looked at as laughably bad, due in large part to its stone-faced seriousness and/or because it can be read as an affront against woman; a picture stating that females are not merely crazy, they are the route of all evil. There is a lot in Antichrist to back up that claim. I believe it to be the opposite, however, instead believing the film stands as a lengthy commentary deriding society’s ability to turn women against themselves to a degree that men will never full understand.
The story is a dense, frightening one, layered with emotional discomfort; the cinematic equivalent of an anxiety attack. The movie sneaks in subliminally disturbing images (a screaming face seen in the trees) and displays of the grotesque (a deer with a rotting corpse hanging from it). This is a filmmaker in complete control of his skills. The visuals are unique, curious and atrocious. The woods bend inward, welcoming its new guests into a frightening world. The sound design is oppressive, with ambient noise pushing you deep into your seats. A cascade of acorns echoes through Gainsbourg and Dafoe’s, a constant reminder of their son’s death and nature’s relentlessness.
As Antichrist progresses through its chapter, including Pain, Grief and Despair (with the subheading Gynocide), the movie evolves its psychological horror into outright brutality that will make even the steeliest of stomachs queasy. The last 30 minutes aren’t merely visceral, they are utterly animalistic. What happens won’t be spoiled here (you can find it online within seconds) but it does involve wooden blocks and the rustiest pair of scissors in movie history.
Gainsbourg and Dafoe are sensational here in what is basically a two-person show. You feel years of love and strife between them. This is a relationship that has likely never been healthy, their happiness only coming in the ecstasies of their bodies mingling together. Even that becomes something harsh and cruel by the end of von Trier’s picture. Gainsbourg has received plaudits for her work here, and deservedly so. Her character has to go to some wild places and it is her staggering emotional state in the early chapters of Antichrist that allow those theatrics to resonate. Unfortunately, lost in the movie’s controversy and praise for Gainsbourg’s bravura is the applause for Dafoe, who is the movie’s rock, keeping all the madness somewhat centered. This is some of his finest acting. Without these two, Antichrist would never click.
Now, as for the alleged misogyny, it all comes down to the last scene, after all the blood has been shed, what do we see but a drove of faceless, ghostly women swarming the hillsides. They come from every edge of the screen and grow in numbers with each passing frame, like the countless women ignored, pushed aside and hurt everywhere, everyday in society, a powerful parable but one that has and will continue to be misread.
Antichrist opens exclusively at Landmark Egyptian Theatre today.
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