I hated this absolutely dire film.
Emily Watson is a marvelous actress, and she's tremendous in this, but it's no thanks to the movie, which, whether intentional or not, is hateful to her. She's saddled with a degrading role, asked to play a simpleton who honors her crippled husband's wish to have sex with other men and tell him all about it, an arrangement that spins out of control until she is ultimately gang raped and beaten to death even as her husband regains the use of his legs. Had the husband remained crippled, the film, though still pointless, might at least have been a sad study in one woman's foolish devotion to a higher power; but instead, it suggests that her sacrifice was entirely worth it -- her husband walks, and a horrible ending finds the bells of heaven ringing merrily as she ascends to her God.
What drek. Lars von Trier is the worst kind of director, the kind that thinks it's his job to incite and provoke his audience, and that movies must be unendurable if they are to say anything that matters. What's most unendurable about this literally sickening movie is the hand-held camera work that not for one minute sits still. Von Trier would no doubt call me a Philistine, but he can kiss my ass and give me my money back.
Grade: F
Emily Watson is a marvelous actress, and she's tremendous in this, but it's no thanks to the movie, which, whether intentional or not, is hateful to her. She's saddled with a degrading role, asked to play a simpleton who honors her crippled husband's wish to have sex with other men and tell him all about it, an arrangement that spins out of control until she is ultimately gang raped and beaten to death even as her husband regains the use of his legs. Had the husband remained crippled, the film, though still pointless, might at least have been a sad study in one woman's foolish devotion to a higher power; but instead, it suggests that her sacrifice was entirely worth it -- her husband walks, and a horrible ending finds the bells of heaven ringing merrily as she ascends to her God.
What drek. Lars von Trier is the worst kind of director, the kind that thinks it's his job to incite and provoke his audience, and that movies must be unendurable if they are to say anything that matters. What's most unendurable about this literally sickening movie is the hand-held camera work that not for one minute sits still. Von Trier would no doubt call me a Philistine, but he can kiss my ass and give me my money back.
Grade: F