Dennis Biba

The word disaster, meaning misfortune or catastrophe, is derived from the French désastre and the Italian disastro and literally means “no-star” or bad omen. Such a star also appears in Lars von Trier’s apocalyptic film Melancholia. On the one hand, Melancholia is not actually a star, but turns out to be a vagabond planet, i.e. an exoplanet flying freely through space without its own solar system. On the other hand, it does indeed bring misfortune, as the celestial body, which is many times larger than Earth, threatens to collide with it.

Lars von Trier’s films are known for their deep cultural and historical references and complex symbolism. In fact, Melancholia is so artfully and artificially staged that every little element in it becomes a symbol waiting to be deciphered. The film begins with an eight-minute opening sequence that already anticipates the ending. Accompanied by Wagner’s overture to Tristan and Isolde, the two planets collide like two lovers sharing a kiss of death. This overture remains the only musical accompaniment and recurs so frequently that the film, with its slow narrative style, two-act structure and opulent aesthetics, feels like a four-hour opera, even though it is considerably shorter. A wedding fills the first half of the film, but the music already announces that it is not marked by love, but by death.

In Wagner’s version of the Tristan story, death is initially prevented by love, but ultimately brought about by it. Tristan is driven by a longing for death and willingly seizes every opportunity that could satisfy his desire – in contrast to the literary template by Gottfried von Straßburg, which strikes a very different tone. The death potion that Wagner’s Tristan accepts from Isolde to atone for the death of her fiancé turns out to be a love potion. In a night-time love scene, both long for eternal night, as the day represents the deception of social constraints, a motif that will also become important for Melancholia. In the end, the mortally wounded Tristan waits to find redemption in Isolde’s arms, who then dies her own love death. This death drive, or Thanatos, as it was coined in psychoanalysis by Sabina Spielrein and Sigmund Freud, is linked to Wagner’s musical theme and thus also forms the thematic content of this psychologically extremely subtle film.

The first half tells the story of young Justine’s wedding to Michael at her sister Claire’s magnificent country estate. While the couple appear happily in love and the wedding celebration perfect in the opening minutes, the film takes the rest of its running time to destroy this impression. The camera work is shaky, and the divorced parents of the two sisters warn of the marriage’s failure by their mere presence. Justine’s wealthy employer tries to negotiate a slogan for an advertising campaign with her, and the strict Claire tries hard not to let the celebration fall apart. Under the pressure of high society, however, Justine falls back into a depression she has never quite overcome and flees the celebration.

In the second part, the roles are reversed. While Justine, who was severely depressed at the beginning, seems to gain new strength in an almost uncanny way towards the end, Claire, who is otherwise so controlled, increasingly loses her nerve. Now, at last, the planet Melancholia appears in the sky, which, according to Claire’s husband John, will fly past Earth at close range. Claire, however, is plagued by a fear of death that leaves Justine completely cold. While the first half of the film serves to make Justine fail in society, the second half reverses the perspective and shows that it is actually society that fails itself. When it turns out that the calculations of the planet’s trajectory were wrong, Claire loses her nerves and John kills himself. Justine alone finds peace in the face of death. So, despite all its sophisticated cultural and historical references, is Melancholia just a depressing film by a depressed director?

The symbolic clarity of the planet with the telling name also hints that the film should not be interpreted in overly psychological terms. Although the director’s recurring bouts of depression are no secret, the film is called Melancholia for good reason, and not Depressiva, for example. Depression is a clinical condition, i.e. a state of mind that is pathologised in today’s society for certain reasons. The concept of melancholy, however, is far more nuanced and encompasses a broad spectrum of feelings such as sadness, gloom or profundity, which do not necessarily have to be regarded as pathological. In the context of social criticism arising from the analysis of processes of order and delusional attributions, as undertaken by the French poststructuralist Michel Foucault in The Birth of the Clinic (1973) or Discipline and Punish (1975), melancholy even develops a subversive potential.

However, the film also gives a reason for Justine’s melancholy, which is closely linked to her role as a socially inept dreamer. All the absurd and culturally overformed rituals and customs of the wedding, from the toast to the cutting of the cake, are exposed as meaningless against the backdrop of the impending catastrophe. Not only culture or human existence, but life itself is meaningless, and this meaninglessness is revealed in the reflection of the Earth-like but dead twin planet. Justine, who is sick by society’s standards, is the only one who can observe the approaching planet without technical aids such as telescopes or wire loops and without panicking. Having previously refused to bathe in the tub because of her weakness, she exposes herself unprotected to Melancholia’s light in a significant nude scene in order to draw strength from death. When asked whether there could be other life in the universe, she answers with deep conviction that they are alone. At first glance, the film appears to be psychological, but on closer inspection it turns out to be philosophical, dealing with the existentialist confrontation with nothingness and, precisely because of its clarity, leaving more questions than answers.

Lars von Trier (2011): Melancholia [Film]. Denmark, Sweden, France, Germany.