Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg descend into their own personal hell in Lars von Trier’s Antichrist

Antichrist

Check listings for details

Director Lars von Trier has been coy in interviews when asked what, exactly, Antichrist is supposed to be saying to us. It’s probably for the best, too. Antichrist is a film that will be interpreted differently by almost everyone who sees it, for better or worse. And in most cases, it will be for worse.

The film starts with a beautifully crafted slow-motion sequence of Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg in the throes of fervent, almost violent, sex. The couple is so embroiled in their act that they don’t notice their toddler son climbing towards a window to get a better view of the snowstorm outside. The child plummets to his death, while his parents are still ravaging each other just a few feet away.

Shortly thereafter, the couple isolates itself in a cabin in the woods (which the pair refers to as Eden) to partake in an intense grieving process. On their way, they encounter the first of what will become an onslaught of disturbing images, including mutilated — and self-mutilating — animals. There’s no doubt that von Trier chose the images carefully, but what they suggest is a mystery. Are the animals real or just visions? And if there’s no one around to tell you that what you’re seeing isn’t really there, what does it matter?

Once they arrive at the cabin, Dafoe, a therapist, believes he can cure Gainsbourg with a battery of psychobabble. Gainsbourg eventually fights back against Dafoe’s psychological abuse with physical abuse of her own. And plenty of it. Her numerous attacks, whether meant to be allegorical or not, are shown in graphic detail that has shocked most audiences. Many reductionist reviews have called the film little more than torture porn, and it would be nice to be able to write off Antichrist so quickly.

The film is intense and shocking, but there’s much more at work here than two people getting off on hurting each other. The most common interpretation of the film is as a proposal of what the world would look like if Satan, not God, were its driving force. The film’s title is no small clue. You can then see how the movie plays like a mirror image of the Adam and Eve story — the toddler’s death is the fall of man, and Dafoe and Gainsbourg (credited simply as He and She) are cast into Eden for an eternity of suffering.

Antichrist has gotten mixed reactions on the festival circuit, but what’s likely most important to von Trier is the passion of those reactions. Many have despised the film, but an equal number are defending it as a monumental artistic statement. Even then, those with a favourable opinion are falling short of saying they actually like it. They’re more likely to use carefully chosen words like interesting, or thought-provoking. It is certainly that.