Lars von Trier’s “Dance In The Dark” is a cinematic experience that elicits extreme reactions. Viewers either find themselves utterly captivated or profoundly bored, with little room for in-between sentiments. This polarizing nature is precisely what makes the film so intriguing. A movie that can garner accolades at prestigious festivals like Cannes while simultaneously facing harsh criticism from mainstream audiences is always worth exploring. In many respects, “Dance in the Dark” offers a rich and immersive journey, arguably more accessible than some of its art-house contemporaries. My own appreciation for von Trier’s distinctive and unwavering directorial style was cemented by his earlier works, “Zentropa” and “Breaking the Waves,” both stark and surreal explorations of the conflict between individuals and harsh realities. His films often center on vulnerable, innocent protagonists who are ultimately overwhelmed by life’s cruelties.
The heart of “Dance in the Dark” lies in the character of Selma, portrayed with extraordinary depth by Björk. Selma is emotionally akin to Emily Watson’s Bess in “Breaking the Waves” – both blessed and burdened by a naive and soulful purity. She embodies a unique creation of nature, a seemingly lost and childlike figure who, against all odds, survives through a combination of chance, determination, and the remarkable kindness of those around her. As a Czech immigrant in a 1960s industrial town in the Pacific Northwest, Selma lives a meager existence in a trailer while working in a factory, all while facing legal blindness.
Remarkably, Selma is also a mother. Despite her apparent inability to care for herself, let alone a child, she provides for her twelve-year-old son and nurtures him with a tenderness reminiscent of a young girl caring for a doll. Tragically, her son suffers from the same degenerative eye condition, and the film’s central conflict revolves around Selma’s desperate efforts to save enough money for the operation that could prevent his blindness.
The true enchantment of “Dance in the Dark” emerges from Selma’s rich inner world of music. As her vision deteriorates, her hearing becomes her primary source of joy. She frequently escapes into elaborate musical fantasies triggered by everyday rhythms and beats – the sounds of machines, trains, and more – transforming her mundane reality into spectacular working-class musical productions. These captivating sequences seamlessly blend with her real-life circumstances. For instance, musical interludes at the factory incorporate the factory itself as a grand stage, with her fellow workers becoming her ensemble cast. This unique fusion of Fellini-esque neo-realism and Busby Berkeley-style illusion provides Selma’s only refuge. Vincent Paterson’s innovative choreography and von Trier’s deliberately simple lyrics enhance these dreamlike escapes. While Björk’s distinctive musical style may be unconventional, her performance is so compelling that it becomes integral to the film’s power. Adding moments of unexpected levity, the film also touches upon Selma’s involvement in a hilariously inept community theater production of “The Sound of Music,” where the decidedly awkward Selma plays Maria.
The supporting cast is equally compelling. Catherine Deneuve, the iconic French actress, beautifully de-glamorizes herself as Kathy, Selma’s co-worker and devoted friend. Their bond is unusual, almost maternalistic, with Kathy seemingly dedicating her life to being Selma’s eyes and support, constantly watching over her. Peter Stormare, known for his more villainous roles, delivers a touching performance as Jeff, a gentle and almost pitiable man who is deeply enamored with Selma. David Morse is powerfully unsettling as Bill, a seemingly sympathetic policeman whose desperate actions involving Selma lead to devastating consequences. Joel Grey makes a brief but impactful appearance near the film’s conclusion as a faded musical star whom Selma idolizes.
Von Trier’s signature gritty, hand-held camera style, while initially disorienting for some, undeniably enhances the stark and raw atmosphere of the narrative. His demanding approach to directing actresses, pushing them to their limits to achieve authentic performances, might be viewed as controversial, yet it yields remarkable results. Just as with Emily Watson, Björk delivers a career-defining performance, shining brighter than ever before.
“Dance in the Dark” is a harrowing yet profoundly original piece of cinema. It is a film that demands to be seen by anyone who appreciates movies that dare to break from convention and explore the depths of human experience.
