As of this writing, no film at Cannes has yet managed to surpass Lars Von Trier’s Antichrist, which premiered three days ago, as the hot topic of conversation. In fact, the chatter began before the movie screened: there was a palpable level of excitement days ago about a main Competition title, in English, from a name-brand auteur, with elements of genre that could potentially up its market value. In fact, for awhile there was talk that Antichrist could be the most accessible film Lars Von Trier has ever made. And then people saw it.
As you may have heard by now, the film stars Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg as a married couple (they’re never named) who lose their only child in a freak accident, which they were present for but failed to stop because they were distracted having operatic sex. After she spends some time in a psychiatric ward dealing with her grief, Dafoe, a therapist, convinces Gainsbourg they should retreat to their house deep in secluded woods (they call it “Eden”) so that he can teach her how to face her fears. The house happened to be where the wife used to go to work on an academic thesis on Gynocide — ie: archaic and semi-mythic violence against women, witch hunting and like practices through which, as Gainsbourg’s character puts it, “nature causes people to do evil things to women” — before her husband dismissed her subject and thereby discouraged her ambition. Feeling as though her own sexuality is responsible for the death of her son, the woman essentially internalizes the texts she’s studied and becomes an embodiment of the “evil” she once dedicated her life to critiquing, manifested mainly through total sexual hysteria. And it’s funny!
