01-21-2016, 04:12 PM
I’ve long been curious about this movie. Well, I finally got it from Netflix and watched it last night. Turns out it’s about a woman addicted to sex. Sure didn’t see that coming.
A scholarly older gentleman (Stellan Skarsgård) finds a woman (Joe, played by Charlotte Gainsbourg) lying unconscious on the street. She’s clearly been beaten up. Taking her into his home, he asks her what happened. Whereupon Joe begins to recount her life, starting at age two. The gentleman interrupts at times with intellectual reflections on her experiences, comparing her activities on a train to a fly fisherman reading a stream, or how her counts of certain sexual activities form a Fibonacci sequence, or how a trio of her lovers resembles polyphonic music composed of three different elements. This welding of the basely carnal to intellectual musings almost works for me. But in the back of my mind I kept wondering if they were cold welds, defective, not able to hold up under stress or scrutiny. It’s really hard to tell. Von Trier is both brilliant and fucked up. My suspicion right now is that he’s churning out a lot of psychological ideas in his quest for self-understanding, and while some of it is promising, other parts are just noise.
Then again, maybe all his welds are good. It’s hard to say. There is no consensus among critics and viewers on this movie. Some consider it pretentious, unwatchable drivel; others view it as an absolute masterpiece. All I can say is that you’re journeying deep into the psyche of Lars von Trier.
Charlotte Gainsbourg plays the mature version of Joe, who is recounting her life. She is fully clothed at all times. Stacy Martin is the younger Joe shown in all the flashbacks that make up the bulk of the movie. She’s often nude and magnificently non-voluptuous, and capable of some very emotional scenes.
All in all, worth seeing, if you like your porn with intellectual toppings.
I’ve now completed Lars von Trier’s Depression Trilogy: Antichrist, Melancholia, and Nymphomaniac.
Oh, fuck. Wait a sec. Nymphomaniac 2 just came in the mail. I've only watched part 1.
To be continued...
A scholarly older gentleman (Stellan Skarsgård) finds a woman (Joe, played by Charlotte Gainsbourg) lying unconscious on the street. She’s clearly been beaten up. Taking her into his home, he asks her what happened. Whereupon Joe begins to recount her life, starting at age two. The gentleman interrupts at times with intellectual reflections on her experiences, comparing her activities on a train to a fly fisherman reading a stream, or how her counts of certain sexual activities form a Fibonacci sequence, or how a trio of her lovers resembles polyphonic music composed of three different elements. This welding of the basely carnal to intellectual musings almost works for me. But in the back of my mind I kept wondering if they were cold welds, defective, not able to hold up under stress or scrutiny. It’s really hard to tell. Von Trier is both brilliant and fucked up. My suspicion right now is that he’s churning out a lot of psychological ideas in his quest for self-understanding, and while some of it is promising, other parts are just noise.
Then again, maybe all his welds are good. It’s hard to say. There is no consensus among critics and viewers on this movie. Some consider it pretentious, unwatchable drivel; others view it as an absolute masterpiece. All I can say is that you’re journeying deep into the psyche of Lars von Trier.
Charlotte Gainsbourg plays the mature version of Joe, who is recounting her life. She is fully clothed at all times. Stacy Martin is the younger Joe shown in all the flashbacks that make up the bulk of the movie. She’s often nude and magnificently non-voluptuous, and capable of some very emotional scenes.
All in all, worth seeing, if you like your porn with intellectual toppings.
I’ve now completed Lars von Trier’s Depression Trilogy: Antichrist, Melancholia, and Nymphomaniac.
Oh, fuck. Wait a sec. Nymphomaniac 2 just came in the mail. I've only watched part 1.
To be continued...
