DANCER IN THE DARK (2000) **1/2 It's very well done, but it's so not what I'm into. It's very much like Björk's music, which permeates the film. I recognize that she's not just another pop star, and that her music has authentic merit. It just doesn't speak to my heart. The entire film is Björk, viewed through Lars von Trier's bipolar approach to reality. On the hyperreality side he offers documentary style cuts in rapid fire, I've been told that it's enough to make you car sick, though it didn't have that effect on me. The psychological brutality is real, the shallow representations are too real and effectively portrayed. I understand that the scenes where everyone bursts into musical stuff is fantasy, but they're not any more unlikely than a lot of the action. Reality can best be portrayed by ignoring its lesser aspects, and portraying something else. It's that old poetic truth, and there's no reason it can't be translated to film, in fact this is evidence of that. Björk is either a tremendous actress or perfectly cast, but somewhere between Ally Sheedy, Maria Falconetti and the side of Kate Bush that doesn't interest me as much, or for as long. At least as surprising is how effortlessly Catherine Deneuve portrays a blue-collar factory girl. Not without panache, at all, but without anything that you'd expect to see on a fashion runway. Peter Stormare also provides several moving moments of clodding truth, so right that you have to laugh, no matter what's going on. Vincent Paterson's choreography is highly original, and appropriate, but you have to understand that I basically think that choreography is stupid. If you want to dance, the last thing you need is for someone to tell you how to do it (see Isadora Duncan). Metaphors? I'm glad you asked. They are intentional, but I think offered in a sense of psychological absentia. Everyone working on the film knew that they're there, but devoutly refused to try to figure out what they were. The result is somewhat subjective, entirely esoteric. For me, David Morse is most obviously Bill Clinton, some slight hope wasted in a quagmire of moral weakness, inability to determine a sensible course, and eventually desperate in the midst of forces, all of which he could have controlled with a little bit of chutzpah earlier. There are plenty of others, particularly regarding the legal system, but I'm not convinced that they're either as good, or accurate. I would only point out that the sham of a trial and punishment portrayed apparently takes place in Washington state, where I have gone on record as stating that (an 8-1 majority of) members of the state supreme court (housed in the couldn't-more-possibly-be-misnamed "Temple of Justice") are slaves, prostitutes, and peons before anyone with more money than themselves. Which, frankly, includes a lot of people. I have no difficulty understanding how this could be someone's favorite film, but for me the best part was the savage, loving, and nearly blasphemous treatment of "My Favorite Things."
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