Die Like a Dog

Still processing Lars Von Trier’s latest, Dogville. As another notch in his Dogme manifesto I suppose it works well- a morality play that at once indicts and subverts morality and without losing the pretenses of a parable. Most striking at first was the claustrophobic minimalism of the single set, completely at odds with the expositional alpine scenery. Even the eponymous animal of the title remains a mere chalk outline for nearly the entire film. The feel was strangely that of a community theatre production, the odd disconnect being the various a-list actors filling the roles. I found this tactic disconcerting at first, wondering if all three hours would transpire on the cramped soundstage with only the skeletal outlines of the tangible world visible. The narrator’s Dickensian diction and omniscient explanation of the characters intents and feelings was annoying at first, until I realized that he too was a filtering agent and not necessarily in possession of the full story.

Nicole Kidman as Grace and Paul Bettany as Tom were both exceptional. So were much of the supporting cast, dealing with at times (intentionally) stilted dialogue and the task of filling in the many sensory blanks. What appears a black and white rumination quickly incorporates grayscale shades. The emotional and sexual violence eventually meted out on Grace wasn’t nearly as shocking as I was expecting, but still no less affecting. The penultimate scene in the pick-up truck amongst the apples with Ben (Zeljko Ivanek), which leads to wholesale exploitation by the remainder of the town’s male populace, was one of the most tragic of the film, as Grace’s feeble attempts at resistance swiftly dissolve into sullen resignation.

Tom’s self-perceived purity of thought and reliance on homespun philosophy fails to rectify the flaws in both his own character and those of his fellow townsfolk. In the end he is perhaps the weakest and most pathetic of them all, a man stunted by his need for a rational order and an arrogant belief in his ability to ‘educate’ his peers. Grace’s epiphany tracks from a similar source and leads to one of the bleakest noir endings I can remember in a film, stylized, but still intensely brutal in its existential finality. The maxim about the inherent arrogance of not holding others to the standards ascribed to self rings as an especially hollow revelation.

The final overhead shot of the snarling dog materializing out of thin air was a bracing windup. But the slideshow credits of old Walker Evans photos leading into more modern imagery of the destitute & downtrodden, all to the blaring soundtrack of Bowie’s “Young Americans” didn’t sit as well. The damn thing still has me thinking though, something I would have trouble asserting about nearly all of the other films I’ve seen thus far this year.