![]() The stunning imagery runs way too close to art-school pretension for it to be anything other than deliberate. In another room, their two-year-old son falls to his death from an open window, landing in the street below like a broken snow angel.Īlready, von Trier is messing with us. Lensed in slo-mo by DoP Anthony Dod Mantle in gleaming black-and-white to Handel’s ‘Lascia Ch’io Pianga’ (translation: ‘Leave me to weep over my cruel fate’), Antichrist’s prologue sees a couple having passionate sex as the snow tumbles outside. His ‘horror’ film (although it barely fits that genre) begins in captivating beauty. Written when the 53-year-old was bedridden by depression, Antichrist can only really be called shock therapy. Label it audacious on-screen catharsis the worst-date movie ever and von Trier at his most vulnerable. ![]() The biggest mistake you can make with Denmark’s bad-boy auteur is taking him too seriously. The first words that appear on screen? ‘Lars von Trier’. Antichrist confirms Lars von Trier as the mad master-imp of world cinema. ![]()
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