Back to primitivism eh? Some Janov scream in the field, the entirely self-conscious act of rudeness to the cows, the flowers. What are you screaming at exactly? What's got into you, acting so goddamn dumb in public and all? There's a time and a place, the over-20's holiday resort, typical Friday night debauchery, and oh my haven't I got a story for you on Monday when there's fuck all else to do but start swimming in the memories. Why do human beings so readily tear off the bandages and gleefully expose the wound? I don't care how banal you think American culture is. When I see those rednecks cut themselves apart on Jerry Springer I can't help but look for the reason any living thing could so recklessly head into emotional nakedness. Maybe I'm losing track of truth and simulation (yawn). But look, it's only television right, a sacred realm, the place where the purest slivers of truth become complete lies in under a minute, right? I don't care about the audience...these people are going nuts
because they're in a cage, a lovely cell of distorted reality. Behave like that in the real world and that cell will become rather more lifelike.
So on to Lars Von Trier's The Idiots, which is about folks goin' nuts and doing all kinds of dumb shit in public. That's about it, ignoring for the moment the deeper intellectual problems, metaphors, film styles and so on. What we have on the screen is basically a poorly filmed version of an Adam Sandler flick. People act like fools and bump into things, much to the chagrin of the common, sane folk. Yet where this film differs from, say, Happy Gilmore, is that it is willing to test the limits of "spazzing", the name given to the Idiots' public shenanigans. When does the joke stop? Can breaking a public taboo result in grievous bodily harm? That's what the film is all about, those lines we like to think exist, in real life as well as in the cinema. If you want a film about the nature of the "the other" or transgression, this is infinitely preferable to Eyes Wide Shut. This film is moving too fast to be perfect. It's a theoretical exercise, an attempt at film, a joke, a put-on, a torturous piece of crap, the only real film of honesty in a year of irony, a film as guilty of such sins as any other piece of nameless flotsam. It's all one big tapestry, no? Am I get closer to you reader by letting rip with whatever flows through my head at any given moment? Can my fingers keep up? Will the keyboard tolerate this behaviour for much longer? That's the myth, that just telling the truth all the time will somehow deliver you from self-consciousness. Just look at me...the hole is getting inescapably deeper with every second. In the end that's horseshit, child's play, and all we can hope for is to attain some small degree of mental annihilation. And even a little nudity.
Left: Lars von Trier with his SONY mini-DV camera
Who do the Idiots resemble most of all? None other than the Dogma 95 filmmakers. You hatch a plan and then take it town. But plans can fall through as so often they do. Like the proclamations of the Idiots, it's hard to know how seriously to take the Dogma Boys. Do the Danes possess a keen sense of the absurd? Lars Von Trier's previous films suggest both a yes and no. From faith to folly...are we talking exacts here? It's in the details, the discussables. I love your minor portraits Picasso but I do hate the frames. Dogma 95 will perhaps only make sense when given to history. Oh yes the film student will say, Dogma 95. Tonight's KINO screening is.....eventually we move closer to a hysterical, painful truth. Breaking The Waves got close, so full of faith in the closing moments that bells began ringing in the sky. Was that a put-on, the last sickly joke? No, it's just that any kind of faith looks stupid these days, unfortunately...fire water earth sex goddess...P. J. Harvey's 4-Track Demos...art as a retreat, an inward scream, back to the point of origin. Were you ever part of this process dear audience? I invited you in but don't make yourselves comfortable. Were you the special few for a second or two? Forget it. You're outta here.
Two kinds of love....two kinds of insanity....two kinds of indulgence. One is acting up, funniest home video stuff, greasy down the pole excitement made for pub telling and breathless detail. One is Cruel Intentions starring Sarah Michelle Gellar and Ryan Phillipe, the best first hour of film I've seen this month. Shame about the climax. With popcorn and an all over sweat, The Idiots and Buffy as a nymphomaniac society girl with a coke habit are one and the same. This years Spiceworld. Goddamn.
adam rivett
comments? email the author