The final installment in Lars von Trier’s “Depression Trilogy” has been surrounded by both hype and controversy since its early pre-production days. From the rumors of unsimulated sex (OMG is Shia LaBeouf gonna do it for real?!) to those regarding its unusually lengthy running time, Nymphomaniac has been on the radar for ages. And speculation aside, if audiences predicted that the film’s “Depression” predecessors — namely, Antichrist — were any indication of how dark and over-the-top it would be, then they already knew that Nymphomaniac was going to be, well, something else.
Nymphomaniac Vol. 1 is undoubtedly dark, depressing and sexually explicit, but it’s also highly entertaining, intellectual and, at times, rather humorous. It is essentially everything one could imagine as the final piece of a film trilogy depicting broken people in bleak times through the eyes of one of the world’s most contentious and polarizing directors. It seems that the two biggest issues with the two-part film have been (unsurprisingly) regarding the level(s) of pretension and, also, the amount of graphic sex. The question “Is it necessary?” can be applied to both so, let’s discuss.
You’re probably already aware, but the film revolves around a self-diagnosed nymphomaniac named Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) who spends hours detailing dirty, hyper-sexual exploits from her youth until the present, after being attacked in a dark alley, one night. Her rescuer and eventual listener is a well-read, compassionate, and, perhaps, creepy older gentleman named Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard), who responds to each of her escapades with a corresponding metaphor from his internal cache of knowledge. When she talks about choosing sexual partners on a train, he compares the act to fly-fishing. When she recounts the number of times she was penetrated whilst losing her virginity, he applies it to the Fibonacci numbers. The list goes on and on as he equates nearly every aspect of Joe’s sexual past to religion, architecture, classical music composition, poetry, and essentially any topic that might compel you to feel as though you’re back in a classroom somewhere.
I suppose this is where the question “Why must Lars von Trier include all of this ridiculously pretentious crap?” comes into play. On one hand, it is somewhat irritating to have all of these concepts and themes thrown at you throughout the entire film. But on the other hand, everything was written and acted out in a way that demonstrates a sort of celebration of brainy jargon, almost to the point that it surpasses the accusation of pretense. It has always seemed that a showy director incorporates intellectual symbolism and/or overtly stylistic film techniques as a way of intensifying his/her narrative in a way that’s simultaneously obvious and not obvious — like, hey, I’m going to pretend I’m being subtle, but look at how brilliant and creative I am! Alternatively, LvT literally inundates his audiences with so many highbrow notions and ideas, along with weird animation and a combination of rich color juxtaposed with black and white sequences and split-screen sequences, which shows that this film was intentionally made to be an overly-excessive filmic collage of some kind, as if Nymphomaniac actually revels in its own pretension. And it works.
And now, for the sex stuff; there is constant full-frontal nudity, close-ups of oral sex, masturbation, actual penetration, and a montage depicting dozens of flaccid penises. Is it all essential to the film? Well, yes and no. The same story could have been told without all of the graphic visual content, and probably would have worked. But to get a feel for how Joe viewed sexuality, it makes sense to incorporate a whole bunch of really explicit scenes because by the end of the film, you’re kind of over it — not over the film, but over the shock value. Joe obviously never regarded sex as this really epic and monumental act, as many of us are taught to do. Rather, she thought of it as something she required out of lust. And she felt complacent and satisfied when she was fully nude in her apartment with her various suitors, so it’s only logical that we would begin to understand her outlook on sex as we constantly see her naked and making love to an assortment of dudes. Being exposed to something over and over again certainly causes it to become ordinary, and possibly even uninteresting.
And as for the whole “What separates this film from porn?” debate, well, I guess that depends on what kind of porn you’re into. If you enjoy watching clips of seriously lonely people getting it on then maybe you’ll think it’s comparable to porn. Here, there really wasn’t anything that seemed pornographic. I mean, surely young Joe (Stacy Martin) is beautiful, and she does some very dirty things, but she does such an excellent job of conveying how empty and alone she feels, that it seems almost impossible to feel turned on by any of her X-rated deeds.
Nymphomaniac Vol. 1 is, once again, everything we already knew it would be. It’s dark and pretentious with copious amounts of graphic sex and Shia LaBeouf speaking in a ridiculous accent. But it’s so much more than just a melancholy story about a woman’s addiction to fucking – it’s an excessive, comedic (Uma Thurman’s small role will definitely make you LOL), and emotional journey. It will force you to question the way we perceive sexuality, along with gender roles, animal instincts, morality and sin.
Who Should Watch It: Fans of Eyes Wide Shut (Note the Shostakovich musical reference), Irreversible, and Roman Polanski’s “Apartment Trilogy.”
Who Shouldn’t Watch It: Anyone looking for some sexy masturbation material.
Review by Nicole Woszczyna. You can follow her on Twitter @nicolewosz.
