Melancholia, dir. Lars Von Trier

The planet, Melancholia, which was hiding behind the sun, tracks toward earth in what the scientific community calls a “Death Dance.” This planet is an eponymous metaphor, too, as it approaches us humans slowly and gloomily and can take hold and destruct our families, homes, and selves. But Von Trier paints Melancholia a beautiful blue with milky vapors swirling around it. It’s hard not to think of Keats’ ode to Melancholy: “But when the melancholy fit shall fall/ Sudden from heaven like a weeping cloud….” Given this broader context, two sisters face each other’s insecurities and despondency during the younger’s ill-fated wedding. We see how melancholy’s spectrum strains them as the planet gets nearer and nearer. The film compares to Tree of Life in that it’s focused finitely on a few characters in a chamber setting and leaps between small spaces and universal perspectives, all backed by marvelous orchestral music. The mix of shaky, handheld camera work and ultra-slow motion jostles us, mimics melancholy’s approach, and there’s little to do but “glut thy sorrow,” to take hold of it and perhaps take pleasure while it tremors toward us.