Dancer in the Dark

Dazzling Björk in this indictment against the death sentence, in tight close-ups. This film is a UFO, musical without being.

I have tremendous respect for Lars von Trier's work, and I deeply admire his courage in attempting to fuse drama with musical theater. "Dancer in the Dark" is nothing if not audacious. Unfortunately, ambition alone doesn't make a successful film, and this one fails both as a drama and as a musical. As drama, the film stumbles on two fundamental levels. First, the handheld, shaky camera movement is completely unnecessary. Von Trier broke other Dogme 95 rules throughout this film, so why cling to this one annoying restriction? The constant jittering ruins suspension of disbelief, pulling us out of the story when we should be immersed in Selma's tragedy. Second, and more damning, there's no redeeming value to the bleak outcome. What have we learned? This is Greek tragedy without the moral lesson—the protagonist dies, and we're left with nothing but emptiness. Catharsis requires meaning, and "Dancer in the Dark" offers none. As a musical, it fares no better. Musicals, even dark ones, require some happiness, continuity, or saving grace. The genre demands transcendence, a moment where song lifts us beyond suffering. Here, there is none. That said, Björk does a tremendous job with what she's given, and casting Joel Grey in the final courtroom musical number was absolutely brilliant, a meta-theatrical stroke that acknowledges the genre's history while subverting it. But brilliance in moments doesn't rescue a fundamentally flawed film. "Dancer in the Dark" is an admirable failure.