I want to preface this post by saying that yes, I have seen Oppenheimer, and yes, I have seen Barbie, and no, I will not be discussing either (at least not right now haha). Instead, I will be discussing what is probably my second favourite film by my favourite director. If you have not yet had the pleasure of watching 'Dancer in the Dark' please do. I will keep this excerpt of my review/analysis spoiler free for that purpose.

In his award-winning musical drama ‘Dancer in the Dark’, Lars von Trier depicts Czech immigrant factory worker Selma, whose sight is rapidly deteriorating. As Selma undergoes struggles in her life, she escapes increasingly often into musical daydreams. ‘Dancer in the Dark’ is the final film in von Trier’s ‘Golden Heart Trilogy’, and explores the heartbreaking collision of an innocent idealistic girl with a cruel, self-serving society. As with his 1996 film ‘Breaking the Waves’, ‘Dancer in the Dark’ displays von Trier’s attempts to project himself onto female characters and thus examine the repressed ‘feminine’ attributes of his personality, such as religious belief, emotion, and self sacrifice. When questioned about the suffering of the female characters in his films, von Trier has simply stated ‘those characters are not women. They are self-portraits.’ There is no doubt that ‘Dancer in the Dark’ is a divisive film, but I found it to be an utterly enthralling and devastating play on a genre I usually despise.

It must be stated here that I am a longtime admirer of Lars von Trier as a director. I have, for the most part, held back from writing about his films for fear of not doing them the justice they deserve, or perhaps for fear of writing a biassed and dogmatic piece. I was moved to action after my fourth viewing of ‘Dancer in the Dark’ at a local film festival, where I once again finished the film in tears. Björk’s astoundingly honest portrayal of Selma, coupled with von Trier’s twisted take on the classic Hollywood musical, creates a viewing experience that is at once magical and nightmarish.

Musical segments in ‘Dancer in the Dark’ are coupled with a vibrant attack of colour and a shift from the subjective handheld camera; thus, as the film progresses, the viewer is made increasingly aware of the contrast between the depressing reality of Selma’s life and the idealism of her musical daydreams. Though the musical segments of ‘Dancer in the Dark’ provide the viewer with brief respite from the film’s gruelling portrayal of Selma’s suffering, each return to the film’s narrative becomes more and more difficult to bear. In fact, it is hard to imagine ‘Dancer in the Dark’ delivering the perfection it does without the presence of Björk. The innocence she exudes as Selma and her characteristically strange yet hauntingly beautiful musical performances provide a much-needed counterbalance to von Trier’s unyielding directorial style. As Selma, Björk embodies exquisitely the martyr-like, humanistic qualities of the heroines of the Golden Heart Trilogy.

‘Dancer in the Dark’ is tragically beautiful, and possesses the rare ability to quite literally take your breath away whilst you are watching it. You do not have to support von Trier, the controversial figure that he is, to appreciate the masterfully experimental and dazzlingly provocative nature of his filmmaking. Björk is always astounding, and the emotional intensity of her performance as Selma is at once spellbinding and agonising. Von Trier’s Golden Heart trilogy is, in my opinion, the best showcase of his work.