The word is that Lars von Triers made his latest, Antichrist, after coming down from a 2-year bout of depression that left him wondering if he’d ever make another movie. At the risk of pushing him over the edge, it sounds like maybe he should have listened to his gut. It was greeted with bafflement and hoots of derision at Cannes, and Variety derides it as “a big fat art-film fart”. (And Jeffrey Wells called it a “fartbomb” — we sense a theme here!
I have no idea if Antichrist is actually about the Antichrist, because none of the reviewers have been able to figure out what the hell it is about. Too bad, because then Willem Dafoe would have played Christ and Antichrist, which is pretty cool. (Do they explode if they touch?) Suffice it to say, it starts with a toddler falling out of a window and splashing all over the pavement while his parents screw in the next room (but it’s in B&W, so it’s art, not porn!); someone goes crazy; and then a bunch of genital mutilation occurs, most of which is shown in shocking full-color close-up. Most of the reviewers aren’t going into too much detail regarding the latter, but you can read all about what happens to Willem Dafoe’s genitals if you really want to never stop cringing.
Also, this happens:
After the woman is pushed to confess that she’s most afraid of their property deep in the forest — where the she spent part of the previous summer alone with her son — that’s where hubby take her. This chapter on “Pain” actually charts the woman’s self-proclaimed recovery, but ends unpromisingly with a disemboweled fox rising out of the ferns to announce, “Chaos Reigns.”
That’s not a metaphor, the disemboweled fox actually talks. I’m thinking maybe von Triers needs to go back for another round of meds. And now, the trailer!