Partly due to Lars Von Trier’s last feature, the beautiful and disturbing Antichrist, and partly due to his last appearance at Cannes, the ugly and disturbing ‘Nazi-gate’, his new psychological disaster drama Melancholia feels surprisingly controversy-free. A sumptuous examination of the psychological state of two sisters, the film sees the depressive Justine (Kirsten Dunst) self-destruct at her fairytale wedding, while Claire’s (Charlotte Gainsbourg) fears have a more tangible source: a large planet with the Von Trier-subtle moniker of ‘Melancholia’ is headed towards Earth.
Gainsbourg is predictably wonderful, though the impact of Claire’s plight is somewhat lessened by Gainsbourg’s own CV. Having played the anxiety-ridden wife at war with nature numerous times before – including under Von Trier’s direction – it’s a little bit “been here, seen that, watched you battle the demons of flora/fauna/impending apocalypse before.”

It’s her interactions with Justine that are the most intriguing. Undoubtedly due to Von Trier and Dunst’s own experiences with depression, their writing and acting forces combine to show the encompassing experience of the disease. Becoming the perfect vessel for Von Trier to examine his much-addressed themes of the triviality of social rituals, Dunst straddles the tonal shifts of both the film and Justine’s moods with striking grace, and Justine’s transitions from being introspectively weepy to paralytic with hopelessness to downright obnoxious are both emotionally engaging and intelligently handled.
Melancholia is undeniably beautiful to watch, and not just because of the grand, glamorous setting of Claire’s husband’s (a brilliantly haughty Kiefer Sutherland) estate. Using slow-motion sequences, heightened colour palettes and the ominous overture of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde, Von Trier creates a dreamlike atmosphere that’s so filled foreboding that its transition into a nightmare seems inevitable, and the final dénouement is a magnificent visual triumph.
However Melancholia lacks a certain bite, and often feels overlong, indulgent and a little too restrained. Which, given its director, is perhaps the most shocking thing of all.