Melancholia (2011)

Kirsten Dunst in "Melancholia"

Here’s a different kind of apocalyptic disaster movie that doesn’t involve rocket trips into space, heroic astronauts, or the last minute saving of mankind. In “Melancholia”—a subtle, contemplative and visually striking existentialist drama written and directed by Lars von Trier—a rogue planet has infringed on our solar system and is hurtling towards Earth, spelling doom if it crashes. Scientists try to quell fears by insisting it will be a near-miss, but online articles with portentous headlines promise panic.

Meanwhile, life goes on for two sisters, mercurial Justine (Kirsten Dunst) and older, levelheaded but apprehensive Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg). As the film opens, Justine’s wedding is taking place at the sprawling, seaside castle owned by Claire’s ridiculously rich husband, John (Kiefer Sutherland). The mood grows somber, however, as the bride wrestles with a combination of deep depression and dread, slipping off to roam the grounds and look at the stars.

Justine’s odd malaise seems tied to the approaching cosmic upheaval, as if to suggest the disintegration of life and all possibility of happiness. Consequently, her marriage ends before it begins, eerie shadows around the mansion grow long, and sadness becomes omnipresent. While Justine remains at the house, the second part of “Melancholia” focuses on Claire and John, as they examine their own marriage while pondering the threatening alignment of the planets.

If this were a big budget commercial movie in the hands of a lesser filmmaker, “Melancholia” would likely devolve into a loud, hysterical special effects machine. Instead, von Trier’s film considers the end of days with a mix of sadness and resignation that’s as close to poetry and truth as you might find. And though it’s more about people than action, there’s a haunting beauty in the way the invading planet (eponymously called Melancholia) casts an icy blue hue juxtaposed in the night sky with the moon.

Overlong and sometimes meandering, the movie isn’t perfect but is challenging and the ideas and emotions behind it remain thoughtful and believable. “Melancholia” is an effective second chapter in von Trier’s unofficial Depression Trilogy, and its solemn atmosphere is justifiably filled with anxiety and unease. The bleak ending seems to suggest that the heavens are there largely to mock us.

After all, in a universe so vast, the sum of humankind’s hopes, triumphs, dreams and fears can’t really amount to much.