Dancer in the Dark: An Appreciation

"I used to dream that I was in a musical. Because in a musical, nothing dreadful ever happens."

Wow, I've just done it. It didn't take much. Just four little words. But I've just split this site's readers down the middle. Half of you love this film, and probably also its director, Lars von Trier. The other half of you despise it (and probably von Trier as well). But right from the start, I'll warn you that this is going to be a love-fest: I unabashedly love this film, and Lars von Trier as well. If you happen to hate the movie or the man, I'd advise you to skip this and wait for the next post, because this one will be completely devoid of any sort of negative criticism whatsoever. I love this movie, and Lars von Trier is brilliant.
There, we have that out of the way. Those of you who know nothing of the movie or this von Trier fellow are probably scratching their heads. Well, Lars von Trier is just about the most outspoken person on the planet. He has some fundamental problems with the United States, yet he has never been here (he blames this on his fear of flying), even though most of his recent films take place in the U.S. Does that make what he has to say any less relevant? Some think so. I don't. Sometimes to fully examine something, it takes an outsider looking in.
Dancer in the Dark is Lars von Trier's seventh film, and won both the Palme d'Or (Best Picture) and Best Actress at the 2000 Cannes Film Festival. Trier had previously won the Grand Prix (2nd Place) at Cannes in 1996 for Breaking the Waves. But the biggest thing this movie has to offer is the performance by Icelandic musician Björk, in her first (and only) major film role. I won't go into the problems she had with von Trier, as it's already been widely discussed, but apparently the experience of shooting the film was so demanding and emotionally exhausting that she's decided to never act again (although she's changed that story since). Whatever the reasons, the fact remains that we have an amazing performance here. Co-star Catherine Deneuve, explaining why Björk was so psychologically destroyed after filming, described her performance as "feeling" and not "acting". And that's why she's so good. It's rare to see someone completely baring their soul like she does in this film, and that's probably why this picture is so real - and devastating - despite the contrived plot. It's still amazing to me, 9 years later, that she wasn't nominated for a Best Actress Oscar.
The film takes place in Washington state in 1964 (although, obviously, it was shot in Trier's home country of Denmark). Björk plays Selma, a single mother who immigrates from Czechoslovakia with her young son in hopes of a better life. Selma has a condition in which she is slowly going blind, and since it's genetic, she knows her son will also eventually go blind. The United States has developed a procedure to cure this ailment, but it costs several thousand dollars, so Selma moves to the U.S. and spends hours a day toiling away in a factory, in hopes of acquiring enough money to cure her son's disease.
I know what you're thinking. You've just read the summary above, and you're thinking "Yeah, right". I admit, it looks pretty stupid and soap opera-ish on paper, but it really works. Sure, it requires a suspension of disbelief, and not everyone could pull something like this off, but I completely bought it. And I'll explain why:
It all starts at the beginning. This is a two-and-a-half hour movie, and this is a film that knows that. The first scene is a nearly four-minute musical overture, set to a constantly-dissolving set of abstract paintings. So right from the beginning, it feels big. It feels like an Event. I'm not gonna lie to you - I saw this film in the theater, and it was exciting.

So, after this scene we're introduced to Selma, who's practicing for an upcoming community theater production of The Sound of Music. Even with all the hardships in her life, she still has one outlet for happiness: Musicals.
We see her working in the factory, cheating on eye exams so she can continue working, the little house she lives in with her son, and the rich landlords who think they're doing something "nice" by cutting her a deal on the rent and letting her come over every once in a while to eat dinner in their big, expensive house. The man is a cop, and the wife stays at home and spends their money, putting them deeper and deeper in debt. Trier's depiction of American consumerism is a little on-the-nose, but shockingly accurate: The wife not only likes to spend, but also likes the ego-boost in seeing Selma's wide-eyed awe at the couple's wealth.
This all leads up to the scene that really starts everything. Bill, the landlord/police officer mentioned above, comes over late one night to discuss his financial troubles with Selma. She, in return, tells him of her blindness.

This is probably a good time to mention the technical aspects of the film. Lars von Trier again uses his tried-and-true method of handheld camerawork, coupled with copious cutting. I love this style when it's used well, and von Trier certainly knows how to use it to maximum effect. Others hate it, but then again... we're not talking about them, are we?
This film was also shot on video - one of the first large-scale productions to do so. Of course, we're not talking about the advanced HD cameras used today on films like Zodiac, but good, old fashioned DV tape. The camera used for the majority of the film was a more expensive professional model, while the musical sequences (in vivid color as opposed to the dark, grainy nature of the rest of the film) were shot by setting up many, many consumer-grade cameras (sometimes as many as 100) in predetermined spots and editing the footage together in quick succession to create fluidity. In my opinion, it was a terrific use of technology and meshed well with Trier's style of shooting.
So Selma continues her life, slaving away in the factory and practicing for the play. I haven't included a clip of it here, but scattered throughout the film are her "daydreams" - Hollywood-style musical numbers that take place entirely in her head, and serve to distance her from the depressing monotony her life has become.
But, of course, her gradual blindness eventually becomes too much. She struggles to do her work in the factory, and even has to give up her biggest love: the musical.

It's at this point that her landlord, desperate for money in his steadily increasing debt, steals Selma's life savings for himself. She confronts him, and it ends in his murder.
As you've probably realized by now, this is not a film whose merits can be easily explained with description. Sure, I can give you the simple nuts and bolts of the story, which (admittedly) doesn't sound like much. To get a real understanding for this film, you have to witness the power of Björk's performance, and to do that, I'll have to show you the ending. If that's not something you'd like to see now, than I'd advise you to skip to the end of the post, because herein lies SPOILERS...
Now we're in the last act of the picture, and Selma is on death row awaiting her execution. But in the quiet cell block, she's unable to escape into her fantasy world and is instead faced with bleak, harsh reality. Her last musical fantasy is devoid of the vivid colors and dancing as in the rest of the film: It's just a simple, grainy image of a broken woman and her music. It's beautiful and devastating, and you'll never look at "My Favorite Things" the same way again.

Now we arrive at the last scene of the film. I've always believed the last scene of a movie is just as important as the beginning, and this ending is just about as good as you can get. Selma sings, and she's back in her world, although this time, we don't join her. Simply put, we don't need to. Everything plays out on Björk's face, and the emotional power with which she sings these final lyrics is more than what most actors can do with ordinary dialogue. This is what real musical acting is all about - the people who thought Jennifer Hudson was deserving of her Dreamgirls Oscar obviously never saw this movie. And then a simple crane up, in complete silence. Beautiful.

I know I've repeated the word "devastating" in this post several times, but that's the best way I can describe it. It's a hard movie to watch at times, and it leaves you emotionally drained at the end, but it's a real Experience, and that's hard to come by these days. I can see why some people feel that Lars von Trier was trying to manipulate his audience with this picture, and to tell you the truth, I agree. But you know what? I bought it. The whole damn thing. Every last word. A movie should make you feel something, whether it be sadness, or joy, or anger. When a filmmaker goes the extra mile and attempts to get these sort of genuine reactions from an audience, that's commendable. But when a film actually succeeds at this, it's something special.