At the center of
Lars von Triar’s Dancer is a Dark is an endearing and simple woman, Selma (Bjork). A
Czech immigrant, Selma is ridden with a
genetic disorder that is destined to make her
blind. But this film is very different from the “dealing with
disease” films where early on we are treated to an
emotional catharthis. Here, we don’t see Selma crying or complaining about her fate. It is actually quite shocking how little Selma worries about losing her
eyesight.
When she tells a neighbor that she will completely lose her eyesight, she does so in matter-of-fact calm manner. “I’ve known it all my life,” Selma says. Despite the fact that her declining eyesight complicates virtually all the facets of her everyday experience. Walking to and from work is difficult - she almost runs in front of a moving truck. She has trouble reading the scripts for her musicals and seeing her partners clearly when she dances. However, despite her difficulties, she harbors no plans of quitting her hobby or work. Even though unrealistic, the aspiration to continue her work is especially important to her: she wants to make enough money to pay for her son’s
operation to correct the same genetic effect for blindness that she has. (It is too late to correct her own)
Selma’s nonchalant attitude towards her growing blindness places much emotional tension on the viewer. It feels like we know more about the difficulties that await her more than she does. We worry about the disappointment and disillusionment she may later encounter because of her unwillingness to surrender to her
fate. And the fact that her motivation is noble - to help her son - we are prevented from blaming her and made to feel even more sorry for her.
Her optimism for her condition provides for moments that are funny but at the same time colored with a tint of sadness. One of these is in a scene where Selma goes to see a musical in the cinema with her friend Kathy (
Catherine Deneuve.) Squinting to try to piece together the onscreen movement of
dancers, Selma, with a gleeful
voice and excited
eyes, asks her friend to describe it to her. Cathy starts talking to her, but then a man sitting across from her yells at her to hush up. After a short comic spar between the two, Kathy manages to keep her friend informed by tapping out the dance sequence on her outstretched palm. Satisfied, Selma’s face shines with a bright
smile. While we may be charmed by Selma’s inept,
childlike situation and her
innocent delight, this light-hearted episode is also a painful reminder of her difficult situation and a harbinger for increasing difficulties she will have to face because of her declining eyesight.
The pull and push between Selma’s exuberant imagination and vitality and the increasing limitations brought about by her declining
vision heighten as the movie progresses. The more she retreats from the
pain of her life, the more the
viewer feels it.
Selma’s secret to avoid being driven
insane by her mounting difficulties is her love for
dance. At the very moments that something almost knocks her down, she bursts into
song - literally. Anticipating her blindness, Selma decides to take on extra hours at the factory to make more money to ensure there will be enough for the operation. “Night Shift?” Her surprised friend sneers at her. “You can hardly do your own
shift?” “I can work with my eyes closed,” she reassures her friend - and that’s almost exactly what she ends up doing. The room grows darker to her weary eyes and the grinding and stamping of the machines intensifies. “Faster, faster” her supervisor tells her but she can barely keep up the pace.
We’re quite setup for a
tragic finale here - something dreary and
demoralizing. Perhaps she will fall unconscious or cry out in bitter tears of frustration. But surprise, the sparks of electricity coming from the engineers light up the room and everyone in the factory breaks out into a
musical dance number with Selma singing the lead. The catharsis we have waited for has not been given to us - while Selma escapes through her imagination, our emotions continue to bottle up.
As the movie approaches the climax of a horrifying
tragedy, Selma continues to deal with disappointment by retreating into her
fantasy world of dance. While her
transcendence may be poignant and inspirational, the viewer is often wearied and pained by her helplessness in controlling her real life. Depending on how you view it, you may wallow in sorrow and compassion for Selma, or you may act with annoyance and frustration.
Either way, Lars Von Trier’s film is so haunting that it will stick in your mind for a long time. Its emotional and artistic depth is astonishing. But although the beauty and wonder it conveys are exquisite, don’t watch it with your logical,
rational hat on. The plot is composed of
fragmented scenes that have little sense of
progression. The
credibility of the
story may be undermined if its various elements are closely reflected upon. For example, the frequent use of
coincidences to create
drama may make some of the dilemmas encountered by the
protagonist seem
unrealistic. Like an
impressionistic painting, the
movie has its
impact, but the
details are
blurry.