Round-up 36: Why Do I Keep Doing This to Myself? (Lars von Trier Reactions)

I have finally been keeping with my expectations on how many films I’d like to be seeing on a weekly basis. This makes me feel very fulfilled. For me, it’s been about finding a healthy balance between the work, school, and fun, something I haven’t had to do to the degree I’ve have to recently. Regretfully, some of this has been achieved through “revenge bedtiming”, where I force myself to stay up far later than my body or mind is willing to just to squeeze in more of what I want to do; which of course, is watching more films and television. The last couple of weeks I have been watching quite a few new things, and as has been a prominent theme as of late, a handful of them are rather transgressive and intense in nature. Why do I continue to do this to myself, when I notoriously have a weak stomach and traumatized mind? Because it is fun, I say! But I digress, as always, let’s get into what I watched.

Of David Lynch’s remaining films that I have not seen yet, two of them were crossed off the list this time around. The first of which being Lost Highway (1997), starring Bill Pullman, Patricia Arquette, and Balthazar Getty in a mysterious journey through altered identities and a curious set of crimes. The story is difficult to nail down completely, as it falls into the more absurd and abstract of Lynch’s work, more along the lines of Inland Empire (2006) and Mulholland Drive (2001), however, I personally found this one far more enjoyable and possibly accessible to newcomers. Pullman plays a rich musician living with his wife played by Arquette; they suddenly begin receiving strange videotapes of someone recording the exterior of their home, and it progresses suddenly into the wife’s murder, of which the husband is convicted for. Getty plays a mechanic who falls for a gangster’s mistress, who powerfully resembles the murder victim. The stories twist and turn and eventually converge in the final act, all connected by a strange Mystery Man (Robert Blake) and the potentially(?) shared identities between the leading men. Of course, as with any of Lynch’s films, it is very much up to interpretation, and the final moments of the chronology leave much up to ambiguity. I had purchased the Criterion at Barnes and Noble a few weeks prior, so I was excited to see what commentaries and interviews might be included. I was happy to find an archival one with Mr. Lynch himself, discussing in vague details the filming process and some of the ideas that were in his head at the time of writing it with co-writer Barry Gifford. This interview provided a lot of insight for me, and is curiously some of the closest to Lynch directly explaining his stories meaning. I won’t go into it here, as I believe I will spoil the film doing so, but I do strongly encourage you to seek out that video online if you’ve seen this one. And if you haven’t seen Lost Highway, I strongly encourage giving it a shot. Beautiful and haunting.

My next watch was a recommendation, and one that I hadn’t fully considered as something I would actually enjoy, but I was pleasantly surprised. I was absolutely not a fan of Saltburn (2023), and furthermore of Emerald Fennell, specifically because of how derivative that story was of The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), just horny-ified and gross for no good reason other than shock factor. So, when I was told to give Promising Young Woman (2020), her directorial debut, a fighting chance, I naturally was hesitant. Then I actually sat down and watched it, and I had a pretty good time. The story follows a young woman traumatized by the death of her close friend a few years earlier while at college; a tragedy that follows a gruesome rape and subsequent cover-up by the school. She now spends her days working at a coffee shop and her nights catching, shaming, and degrading men who try to abuse and take advantage of vulnerable women. The story really takes off though once she starts targeting the group of people specifically responsible for her best friends tragic passing. Her revenge games come to a halt however when she meets the seemingly perfect man from her past, and everything seems alright, until a whodunnit, slasher-style thriller unfolds. This won best screenplay at the Oscars that season, and I believe it was well-deserved. This was a tremendously written darkly comic feminist thriller that checks all the boxes, even pushing the envelope and testing audience’s limits with the way in which the final act unfolds. I thought this was really fun, and while I haven’t seen Fennell’s recent adaptation of Wuthering Heights (2026), I can say I really would’ve preferred the path she set for herself back with this one instead of the direction she’s found herself in now.

My next watch was by a much-feared director of mine who I am proud to have now seen the worst of. Lars Von Trier is a controversial, very well-known Danish writer and director who has been shocking and depressing audiences around the world for over thirty years with his disturbing cinematic efforts. I started my journey into his work with The House that Jack Built (2018), a serial killer drama starring Matt Dillon as the titular antagonist. The film follows Jack over a twelve-year period as he recounts his favorite and most notable murders of his “career”. I have heard that of Von Trier’s works, this was one of the tamer and more accessible, and with that in mind, I personally didn’t have too much trouble getting through this one. The violence is rather understated and quiet, despite the lingering that occurs after it happens. The structure and editing were really working for me through the majority of the film, so much so that I was actually finding the whole thing not only well-made but very thematically strong as well. That was up until the final twenty-or-so minutes of the film, where it takes a deep dive off the deep end into something entirely different. I can’t say too much at the risk of spoiling, but it feels like an entirely different movie out of nowhere; the genre shifts, the effects shift from practical to computer generated, and the tone changes dramatically. Having looked into this after finishing the film, I found that this is a common trope of his filmography, to be changing direction in the final acts, so I suppose I shall see how this affects the other entries of his work. Overall, a very enlightening viewing that I found mostly entertaining, something shocking, and by the end absolutely dumb.

The next viewing was a cute little indie film by the name of The Kings of Summer (2013), one I had never heard of before, nor was I thinking would be to my tastes, but as always when it comes to that feeling, I was proven wrong. The film being as small as it is pulled some majorly big talent; it stars the likes of Nick Offerman, Megan Mullally, Nick Robinson, Marc Evan Jackson, and Erin Moriarty, just to name a few of the leading cast. The story follows three teenage boys, all rebelling against their respective parents as they struggle to fit in to their growing places in society. One summer, they take action and run away from home and set up shop in the middle of the woods. Tensions flare between the boys within no time after a girl comes between two of them, all the while their parents and local law enforcement are waiting for them to slip up. It’s a tender, very sweet story that is full of humorous moments and memorable performances. I really enjoyed this one a lot, and could easily see it becoming one of my go-to comfort films. My favorite part of the film by far was the performance by Moises Arias as Biaggio, the weirdo friend the other two take under their wing during the whole adventure, and who is not only the frequent comic relief but also a strangely wholesome moral compass to contrast the more questionable decisions being made. A great summer time flick, one I will return to when that season comes.

And then comes the rough stuff. The next few films that I watched are back into the transgressive graphic categories, and so I will put a fair warning here that if you go seeking these films out, it should be done so with discretion. This also easily applies to The House that Jack Built, but these ones are just a bit more intense.

The next entry into my Lars Von Trier journey is his most infamous, and while I had some idea of what I was getting into, I wasn’t fully prepared for how intense it would be. Antichrist (2009) is a minimalist, psychological horror and drama film starring Willem Dafoe and Charolette Gainsbourg as a struggling couple who retreat to a cabin in the woods in a desperate attempt to repair their relationship. Everything goes sour as their inner natures clash internally, and eventually in very physical ways. The film essentially is only dialogue between the two leads and scenic-driven imagery as they delve into the horrors of the impending nature around them. Similarly to The House that Jack Built, I found the majority of this film to be actually very interesting. Especially Antichrist, as it presents a lot of intriguing thoughts of the differences between the primal natures of men and women, and how these are tested at their extremes. The moral questions about our own relationships with the physical world and the violence of extreme pleasure and pain was handled mostly well. Well, until we get to one scene, that scene, in which graphic personal mutilation is shown on screen, and in great detail. What is interesting about this is that is entirely in line with the themes at play, it just occurs without much warning and in great contrast to the direction of the rest of the film. For me, it totally took me out of the experience. If I am being totally honest, I was hanging over a trash bag dry heaving for a few minutes during and after. The conclusion felt dry and tonally absent, but again, maybe that’s more of a reflection of how I was feeling following that sequence. The question I’m sure many are pondering, for those that haven’t seen it before, is it worth it? I think it is. I think that it’s very challenging because of that one sequence, and it should definitely be forewarned that those images will likely linger with you for a while after finishing the film. But as a landmark moment in contemporary cinema history, I think there is merit to watching. A very interesting anti-Biblical perspective, as the title very directly implies. If you watch it for anything at all, make it the awe-inspiring performance from Mr. Dafoe. When does he not deliver?

Another David Lynch film. This time, not so much graphically disturbing as much as it is emotionally and psychologically. The Elephant Man (1980), is the most humanistic of all of Mr. Lynch’s films that I have seen so far (only The Straight Story [1999] remains now]. It is based on the true story of Mr. John Merrick, a severely disfigured young man in Victorian Britian. He is carted around and used as an event for carnivals; he is endlessly abused both physically and emotionally by his “owner” before being taken into the care of a doctor played by Anthony Hopkins. At first, the doctor seems intent on using Merrick for nearly the same purposes as his carnival handler, but soon becomes attached to him, seeing how capable of showing his humanity he is. This is a tough watch, and again, not in a graphic way, as you quickly become used to Merrick’s appearance, and it is handled with grace and delicacy, never treating him as a mockery, joke, or monster, even when the world around him choses to. The poor treatment of John Merrick is not isolated to any particular scene; it occurs often and throughout the two-hour runtime. The conclusion of the film is tragic and very sad as well, implying nothing great for the man’s future. John Hurt plays the protagonist with so much care, one of the finest performances of his career. Lynch carries over his trademark darkness and black and white photography to heavily influence a dark tone that imitates the world that Merrick lives in, and therefore forcing the audience to see it through his eyes. This was Lynch showing us how he saw us. And to think he did so, so well, so early in his career. A phenomenal film on humanity that all must see.

Keeping it par for course with the emotionally exhausting cinema, the viewing immediately following was Michael Haneke’s infamous classic, Funny Games (1997). Michael Haneke is a European filmmaker; he has made French and German films most famously. I had seen another film of Haneke’s many years ago, when I was far too young to appreciate it, a film by the name of Amour (2012), about an elderly couple dealing with memory loss, grief, and the inevitability of death. I would need to rewatch that one, and indeed want to after my viewing of Funny Games, because this shit was twisted as all hell, but consistently original in its vision. The story follows a middle-aged married couple and their young son as they arrive at a remote cottage in the hillside for a vacation. Their peace is quickly shattered when their temporary home is invaded and they are taken hostage by a pair of violent and psychopathic young men who seek to do nothing but play sadistic “games” with them as they threaten their lives. Overall, it is not a very graphic film, but the allusion to violence is constant, and when it does finally happen, it is ruthless is its implications. The leading performances are sensational, it all feels very real, and this comes down to the many static shots as well which let the violence and tension play out without much fancy effect. The final act is interesting and I’m sure very divisive, but I personally land on the side of appreciating it more than finding it a cheap cop out. It presents a number of questions to the audience surrounding our comfortability with violence in entertainment, as well as how it translates to real life crimes, which is so unfortunately relevant today. A good watch, tough, but good. I am definitely very curious to see more of Haneke’s work soon.

Weird, and honestly more shameful, that my immediate reaction to the star of this next film was “hey, that’s Yondu”. Michael Rooker stars as the leading man in John McNaughton’s Henry: Portrait of a Serial Killer (1986), a nice and tight, sub-ninety-minute crime, horror film. It follows the titular Henry as he becomes romantically involved with his roommate’s younger sister, all while he commits terrible murders in his free time. Rooker plays the character with such quiet, yet shakingly intense energy that it is equally terrifying and addicting to see at the same time. The murder scenes are frequent and very reminiscent of the many slashers of the years leading up to this film’s release, but they stand on their own in terms of how much it shows, and it often shows a lot more than you’re expecting. Definitely a step above the R-rating, especially during the climactic sequence of the film. What surprised me the most about this one was the black comedy sprinkled throughout, of which I had much appreciation for. A thoroughly enjoyable film, one that I would highly recommend to any of the hardcore horror fans out there.

My final watch of this cycle was a David Fincher classic, The Game (1997), starring Michael Douglas. I have seen quite a few Fincher films, all of which I have found at least some enjoyment in. This was one that I kept kicking down the road, and I think it had to do with its chronological closeness to Se7en (1995), because that film did some serious psychological damage to me as a young lad. This was very different than Se7en, a far more light-heated conspiracy-driven thriller that has Michael Douglas’ rich loner protagonist participating in a mysterious game that begins to consume his life and threaten his life and those around him. On his birthday one year, his estranged brother, played by a young Sean Penn, comes to him for dinner offering him a card with a number to a company that will enter him into the game. He is subjected to a series of physical and psychological clinical tests upon arriving at the company headquarters, and after being left frustrated, he begins inquiring about the game to his colleagues. He gets nowhere with his lines of questioning, but this is no matter, as he is soon subjected to a series of strange events that leads him to begin questioning everything around him. What’s real and what’s fake? That becomes the leading question of the film, and the audience is put right alongside Douglas as he struggles to piece together the puzzle. This was the most fun I’ve had watching a film in a minute. Everything about this was right up my alley; the black comedy, the thrills, the sleek direction and editing atop the brilliant screenplay, and of course, the cherry on top being Michael Douglas’ hilariously bewildered performance. Sean Penn being unhinged as hell was a great inclusion to the chaotic energy that follows the slow burn opening as well. Just a damn fun time. The ending is equally as absurd as the events the precede it, and while it took me a minute to appreciate what was happening, once I did, I really got a good laugh. To be fair, has David Fincher ever made a bad film? I guess that can be hashed out for those passionate enough.

This was one of the most successful film cycles I’ve had in a very long time. I’m really happy with how much I got to see, and I fully intend on continuing the momentum. I also rewatched a couple of other films in the mix as well; The Usual Suspects (1995), and Burn After Reading (2008), some comfort favorites that I always love returning to now and again. What have you been watching? Any new releases that have stuck with you? As always, I strongly encourage comments below. Until next time, watch some good movies.