Melancholia (2011) ***1/2

Directed by Lars Von Trier

Melancholia feels like two separate movies smashed together. At the center of both sections are two sisters Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). Justine struggles with depression, while Claire acts as her emotional crutch. The first story takes place after Justine's wedding, a droll satire of the upper class. The second part depicts an apocalyptic scenario about a rogue planet on a collision course with Earth.

Depression, fatalism, and fate are all major themes. During the wedding section, Justine expresses uncertainty about the marriage and undergoes manic episodes, complaining of being unable to walk sneaking off for a tryst with a stranger. Her brother-in-law John (Kiefer Sutherland) complains about her odd behavior during the lavish wedding, while her estranged parent's bicker (John Hurt and Charlotte Rampling). The marriage never takes flight. 

Several months later Justine returns to stay with John, Claire, and their young son. Now deeper into depression, Justine barely has strength to move or express coherent thoughts. We also learn a planet called Melancholia is heading towards Earth. John warns Claire to not go online, assuring her the planet will safely pass the earth despite the alarming rumors. The sense of isolation in the film is palpable, we can imagine what's happening on the outside of the world.

As Melancholia draws nearer, Justine's mental health begins to improve. As Claire's fears deepen, she and Justine begin to switch roles. The final 25 minutes of the film are quite harrowing and grim. Von Trier sustains a sense of dread. There's an emotional intimacy often lacking in films of this sort. Existential questions are raised, specifically on how to face an imminent end not only to one's existence but the entire world. When Justine and Claire muse on the end of life on Earth, Justine believes people are evil and there's probably no life elsewhere - the end of everything is imminent. 

Von Trier was open about the story stemming from his own depression. To anyone whose ever been in the grip of depression and anxiety, the film may ring startlingly true. The idea of rogue planet arising is the stuff of pseudoscience, but for the purposes of the film, the sheer novelty of the concept works. A beautiful twin of earth arriving as destroyer is poetic. Like Bergman's Cries and Whispers or even Kurosawa's Ikiru, Melancholia gently eases in questions of mortality with a bluntness, but Justine's small acts of compassion at the end offer a shade of hope.

Dunst was awarded Best Actress at the Cannes Film, Festival and it was well deserved, a truly brave and emotionally raw performance. For all the film's reveling in hopelessness and despair, there's a humanist sensibility apparent throughout. The Wagnerian overture and symbolism add sonic and visual flourish, but it's mere appendage to its sharp meditations on the human condition. Not a film likely to go on anyone's constant rotation for its unrelenting morbidity, but worth watching.