Lars von Trier’s pretenses of self-interrogation and cross-examination avail themselves as especially useful when considering his work.
In the realm of the old masters, there were at least two films in the festival that played as powerful elegies to the disappearing medium of 35mm.
With little more than two strategically placed parentheses, von Trier may well have delivered the best poster of the year.
These shacks have giddily opened their doors to audiences through the years.
The exterior mirrors the interior and vice versa in Melancholia.
A Mysterious World might be the most auteur-y object to emerge from the festival’s “City to City” Buenos Aires-themed program.
Like Werner Herzog, Denmark’s premiere provocateur knows not to be afraid to laugh at the absurdity of chaos.
Wild Grass was the zippy standard bearer for the spirit of “there’s nothing you can’t do.”
Von Trier is a compulsive button-pusher in the battle of the sexes, the battle of political correctness, the battle of cinema as playground of ideas.
In Antichrist, there’s no anchor to the cataract of malevolent images other than Lars von Trier’s own crawling neuroses.