newjerseynewsroom.com

BY JOE TYRRELL

NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM

MOVIE REVIEW

"Melancholia" begins with a series of sumptuous slow-motion scenes, darkly beautiful but unsettling, as Wagner's "Tristram und Isolde" rises on the soundtrack.

It's a striking introduction to one of the most well-crafted movies in a year of original, offbeat works. It also continues 2011's cinema theme of apocalyptic visions. That title is a warning that what's coming will not fit most people's definition of a happy ending.

Those opening tableaux vivant are strikingly composed by director Lars van Trier, better known for his stripped down Dogme style. There will be plenty of his trademark hand-held, close-up camera work in "Melancholia."

But here the director—who might politely be called colorful—finds a balance between artistic theory and artful exploration. For a movie grounded in the prosaic details of an unhappy wedding reception, "Melancholia" also treks into cosmic matters.

Holding all this together are sharp, brave performances, led by Kirsten Dunst as Justine, a very apprehensive bride. Until now, she has apparently been a success, with a job as an advertising executive and a handsome if bland new husband, Michael (Alexander Skarsgård).

But as they arrive late for the reception at the country estate of Justine's attentive sister Claire, the excellent Charlotte Gainsbourg, there are already intimations that the bride's smiles are a thin and quickly applied veneer.

Even Claire's wealthy husband John (Keifer Sutherland) occasionally stops talking about his 18-hole golf course to urge Justine to be happy. (John has reason to be proud of his home and grounds, since von Trier shot the exteriors at Sweden's Tjolöholm Castle.)

Happiness is not on von Trier's agenda, as the script was built from his own bouts of melancholy, starting from the idea that depressives are more likely to remain calm when facing disaster.

That unlikely launching point still enables "Melancholia" to turn everyday exasperations into dry comedy. Inching along a narrow track at the country estate, a limousine driver can't get the vehicle parked properly. At the end of a disastrous evening, a wedding organizer fixates on the results of a contest to guess the number of beans in a jar.

By turns cheerful and tearful, sexy and enervated, determined and adrift, Dunst gives the performance of her career as she turns Justine into an exasperating but all-too-believable person.

While guests may gossip about her behavior, they quickly see where she gets it. Justine's apparently fond father, a welcome John Hurt, has hardly begun his wedding toast when he turns into an attack on his ex, Justine's mother.

But Mom, in the elegantly venomous person of Charlotte Rampling, is more than equal to the occasion. Which is not to say that she is much help to her daughter.

"Mom, I'm a bit scared," Justine confesses.

"A bit? I'd be scared out of my wits if I were you," Rampling replies, and offers advice culminating in "get the hell out of here," in the nicest way.