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It’s shot in a monochromatic palette of cold grays and blues.
#Watch antichrist movie movie
Even as you admire the formal artistry of this sequence, you start to resent the movie’s matter-of-fact assault on its audience: Gotta dispatch Junior right up front so we can get on with the raw maternal grief.Īfter the credits, the movie switches to color, sort of.
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The opener is a kind of classical-music video, as exquisitely framed and calibrated as it is nakedly manipulative. We can assume that it’s pretty good sex too, because as they move from the shower to the laundry room to the bed, the ecstatic couple is unaware that their toddler son has awakened, escaped his crib, and climbed up on a windowsill in their bedroom, where, just as his parents reach climax, he plunges out the window to his death on the street below. The film opens with a dialogue-free preface, shot in black and white and set to the sublime Handel aria, “ Lascia Ch’io Pianga.” As water beads on a glass shower door, a man and a woman, identified in the credits only as He (Willem Dafoe) and She (Charlotte Gainsbourg) have sex-graphic, unsimulated, genitals-in-close-up sex. I’ll just read the plot outline of each new movie, layer on that familiar von Trier affect of repulsion, resentment, and boredom, and it’ll be as if I’ve seen it. And after the infantile bludgeoning that is Antichrist (IFC Films), I feel no need to keep accompanying von Trier’s career at all. But after the excruciating juvenile provocation that was Dogville, I felt no need to see the “sequel,” Manderlay, in which Bryce Dallas Howard stepped into the female-punching-bag role that Nicole Kidman refused to reprise. Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark were powerful, unsettling, transformative movie experiences, even if their endings came uncomfortably close to making the case for virgin sacrifice. But von Trier’s fetishistic re-enactment of psychological and physical torture scenarios seems to grow less, not more nuanced with each go-round. There’s nothing wrong with an artist returning obsessively to the same set of themes and images. Lars von Trier freely admits in interviews that he makes the same film over and over: a huis clos melodrama in which a passive, vulnerable, often mentally unstable woman is gradually driven crazy, and sometimes killed, by the gaslighting of a sadistic man.