DANCER IN THE DARK
Reviewed by Harvey Karten
Fine Line Features Director: Lars von Trier Writer: Lars von Trier
Cast: Bjork, Catherine Deneuve, David Morse, Peter Stormare, Joel
Grey, Vincent Paterson, Cara Seymour, Jean- Marc Barr, Vladica
Kostic, Udo Kier, Siobhan Fallon, Zeljko Ivanek, Stellan Skarsgard
At one point in this movie--quite an unusual one if only because
one cannot place its genre squarely into the category of American
musicals or European tragedy--the principal character, Selma (Bjork)
declares that she is not afraid of going blind. She has seen everything.
And boy, has she ever. She has observed not only the beauty of
her adopted country, America--its trees, lakes, mountains, even
its railroad trains--but she has been witness to the adversities
of life as well. Little does she know just how much more catastrophic
her life will become as she has not only lost her job and most
of her sight: she may have to give up her obsessive goal to get
her son an operation to save his own sight, her chance at what
could have been a developing relationship with a good albeit weak-willed
man, and even her very life. Selma is a saintly person in the
manner of director Lars von Trier's principal played by Emily
Watson in his wonderful "Breaking the Waves." Von Trier,
once again following the Dogme rules of avoiding the usual appurtenances
of Hollywood filming such as an ever-present soundtrack and dramatic
lighting, follows the characters around with a hand-held camera
to give his picture the rough texture that symbolizes the bleak,
working-class lives of the Washington State community.
The story is simple enough to follow and is hardly the reason
that "Dancer in the Dark" is bound to compete with "Shadow
of the Vampire" as the most talked-about film of the year.
Selma, a homely woman who often appears mildly retarded, is an
immigrant from Czechoslovakia who in 1963 has found work on a
cutting machine in a factory. Her thick glasses will soon be of
no help to her as she is swiftly going blind. To save her young
boy, Gene (Vladica Kostic) from the same difficulty, she is saving
money to give the lad an operation by his 13th birthday. Selma
has only two things going for her: one is her friendship with
another emigre on the factory floor, Kathy (Catherine Deneuve)
and with her landlord, a policeman named Bill (David Morse) who
lives with his spendthrift wife, Jean (Cara Seymour). The other
is her rich fantasy life. She has apparently come to America not
only to get her son the eye operation he needs but because she
believed that this entire country is inhabited by people perpetually
performing as though they were in a Hollywood musical. This latter
fantasy is what gives von Trier's movie its delightful originality,
putting "Dancer in the Dark" on the cutting edge of
innovative cinema. Though Selma is a member of a drama group which
is about to stage the laughably sugary and banal "The Sound
of Music," her fancy takes her into a territory mined more
by contemporary stage composers like Stephen Sondheim than by
Rodgers and Hammerstein. Every so often--encouraged in some cases
by the rhythmic beat of the machines on the factory floor or the
choo choo choo of the local railroad train--Selma sweeps herself
away into flights of fancy encouraging all those surrounding her
(in her own mind) to join in. Since the lyrics, which were composed
by Sjon Sigurdsson and the director himself, are sometimes drowned
out by the din, and the original music of the lead performer,
Bjork (who is also famed in Iceland for her song), is likewise
submerged, the audience is unable to feel the impact of the Brechtian
commentary. Nor is the choreography particularly inspired.
Nonetheless the movie, which won the Palme D'Or at the recent
festival at Cannes, evokes the life of drudgery and soulless existence
of factory work in rural America while Bjork's performance as
a woman who is sinking both physically and emotionally into a
morass of adversity, is utterly heartbreaking.
Bjork and Deneuve are supported well by an ensemble that includes
David Morse as the perennial cop and Peter Stormare as the aspiring
boy friend. Lars Von Trier shows himself once against as a director
with imagination, one who continues to push back the boundaries
of cinema, eschewing the fatuous feel-goodism endemic to Hollywood
movies for real-life, emotionally gripping drama.
