Lars von Trier
Dogville

THE REVIEW

Dogville - Homo homini canis

Von Trier stages the primordial cannibalistic nature of social relationships, a nature that millennia of civilization have not managed to eradicate but only to soften with a coat of good manners always ready to fly away. The Danish director once again hits on his obsession, abandoning irony in favor of sarcasm, which is, however, a sort of dim-witted sibling of irony.

The set is stripped to the bone; Von Trier perhaps wants to focus on the communicative, phatic, and healthily educational channel of slapping the average viewer, lulled by the Hollywood logic whereby a chased car must eventually explode. The visual result is tremendously effective: "no frills," as the English say, no frills, so whoever remains in their seat has no distractions (perhaps the neighbor's décolleté) and is forced to think about what they see. A re-education in the style of "A Clockwork Orange," but non-coercive and even sought after for a fee of 6 euros or more!

The thesis is shamelessly obvious: homo homini lupus (canis, in Dogville). A thesis that's two thousand years old (Plautus) that encapsulates a certain view of that repellent gang of scoundrels known as humankind, always ready to take advantage of the weak. Since then to today, cathedrals of hatred and disgust towards man have certainly not been lacking (I was thinking of Swift, just to name one). Von Trier goes a step further, extending in the finale this unflattering stigma of humanity to Jesus and the entire popular-salvific paraphernalia of Christian eschatology. Yawn, yawn... is there still room in 2003 for blasphemous provocations? (example of rhetorical question)

And speaking of rhetoric, it's exactly the rhetorical technique that's the film's weakest point. After the first pleasant taste, here comes the only strategy that will be used for the remainder of the work: sarcastic caricature, obviously in a cynical key. Using the same axe with which he stripped down the soundstage, Von Trier directs his clear-sighted fury of reduction to the bare minimum towards the script and characters. The result is a flat and at times unbearable film, made of two-dimensional silhouettes, both drawn on the floor and enacted. Were it to last half an hour, it would be a good themed piece.

Score two and a half.