Lars Von Trier “Purified” and “Exhibited”

Genre Hound
Film Opinion

Love him or hate him, Lars Von Trier knows how to push people’s buttons. He also knows a thing or two about making films. Whether the average filmgoer is aware of it or not, Von Trier has been responsible for some of the major trends that have influenced independent cinema over the last decade.

The Cinefamily’s recent double-feature documentary screening of two films about Von Trier’s heavily experimental work, both directed by Jesper Jargil, offered a closer look into the practices of this hardworking, fearless filmmaker.

First is The Purified (2002), a 74-minute doc that details the core four Danish filmmakers’ reaction to their Dogme 95 manifesto five years after their revolutionary proclamation.

Second is The Exhibited (2000), an 81-minute rollercoaster ride of a documentary that nobly tries to make sense of the near-chaos that was Von Trier’s World Clock theatrical performance-art installation from 1996.

In The Purified, Von Trier is at a reunion in 2000 with fellow Dogme 95 directors Thomas Vinterberg, Kristian Levring and Soren Kragh-Jacobsen. Seated on couches in Von Trier’s home, the filmmakers proceed on a day-long discussion of the pros and cons of their movement and the filmmaking process that resulted from their self-imposed restrictions.

As we see the men discuss and review clips of their films, as well as documentary footage of themselves on set, the proceedings take on a fascinating air of candid testimonials. Each director, including Von Trier, seems to be coming to terms with the sheer difficulty and complexity of the filmmaking process and the hardship they endured by working under such restrictions. Some comedic moments are shared when it is revealed in various clips that Vinterberg and others are shown breaking the rules, talking about making certain shots more aesthetically pleasing and so on while Von Trier audibly grumbles beside them.

One of the most interesting points revealed from their experimentation is the concept of freeing up the camera with the “strictly handheld” rule. Each filmmaker seemed to agree that their process was freed up and made more organic with the choice to do away with dollies or cranes in favor of a documentary approach.

While some of the camera work in the first Dogme 95 films might be seen as interesting or dynamic, the same cannot be said for Jargil’s in these documentaries. His camera is in almost constant motion while filming these directors simply sitting and talking. This movement combined with the cross-cutting back and forth with on-set footage lends The Purified a fast-paced energy that feels jarring and sloppy yet manages to keep the viewer’s interest, particularly when these directors seem to simply be enjoying each others’ high jinks a bit too much.

The result of The Purified is something like unearthing a time capsule with its makers present. Seeing the directors share their war stories from the battlefield is a fascinating and frustrating experience, especially since it seemed like so many of the Dogme 95 films were made with a fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants, shoot-from-the-hip mentality (something the pretentious and cheeky title of the film seems to parody).

Indeed some of the most insightful commentary comes not from the four directors but from screenwriter and frequent Dogme 95 collaborator Mogens Rukov. He is shown in close-up as the elder statesmen extolling the virtues and mysteries of Dogme 95 with ubiquitous cigarette in hand. Jargil uses him like a secret weapon. Just when you think you’ve got a handle on the more mundane aspects of this whole Dogme 95 affair, Rukov says something profound or inflammatory like “resolving an artistic challenge–dramatic pause, exhale smoke–is like resolving the unknown.”

It’s this kind of romantic creative spirit that made Dogme 95 worthwhile in the first place and is hopefully what will make its legacy endure.

As for The Exhibited, the film struggles to make sense of the massive, convoluted theatrical experiment that was Psychomobile 1 – The World Clock. With the title, Jargil seems to be commenting on the 53 actors who were put through a veritable meat grinder of improvisational, exploitative live theater and on Von Trier as the deviant provocateur who is only briefly glimpsed in the opening moments of the film while vaguely explaining the mechanics of how the “clock” works. The film stretches its conceit of documenting the performance to feature length, even though it would have been near-impossible for any filmmaker to record and render a coherent narrative from the almost month-long show. Therefore, for the sake of brevity, if you’re interested in a more in depth review of this film, click here.

Ever since Von Trier took a stand against the bloated mega-budget style of Hollywood filmmaking 15 years ago with his Dogme 95 “vow of chastity,” the independent film and big-budget studio worlds have grown further and further apart.

What made Von Trier and his small but loyal band of like-minded film revolutionaries successful in their attempt to “free” the filmmaking process of all its overhead was that they had already established themselves as relatively traditional and profitable filmmakers. Had they started out with the plan to change cinema at its very core by picking up consumer-grade camcorders and shooting films on micro-budgets with no-name talent, they would have been up shit’s creek, so to speak.

Considering Von Trier’s prior filmmaking background, it is no wonder he progressed so quickly toward such a radical approach. The films he’s released before and after the Dogme 95 period can all be described as experimental and avant-garde in some way. Only his most recent work, Antichrist (2009), seems closest to resembling a traditional narrative film after close to 15 years of pushing the boundaries of the medium.

With rumors of his profound creative depression and his declaration to provide “no more happy endings” with his new work, Von Trier is an artist with a fierce and uncompromising creative spirit. His next film, titled Melancholia, is one any fan of cinema beyond the realms of Hollywood will be awaiting with bated breath.

Watch a clip from Von Trier’s The Idiots (1998), his first film made under the Dogme 95 manifesto:

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To see more from Michael Okum, visit: http://evilmonito.com/author/mokum/

Published on 29 April 2010 |