Manderlay

I won't disclose anything about the film. I liked it very it much, albeit slightly less than the first film, probably because, well, the first was very fresh and innovative in the way it presented this "theatrical" world and partly because of the shocking and raw power of the story of "Dogville". In "Manderlay" we also meet with hypocrisy and cruelty, but the movie moves on a different level than "Dogville". It is clearly more philosophical-political, it carries a more visible political agenda. It also relies upon dialogue more than "Dogville" did and of course the symbolism and allegory of the first film are present here, as well. Still, the movie is a masterpiece, in the same way "Dogville" was. Of course, someone can think otherwise (not to mention those people that will accuse Trier of being "Anti-American"), but having a different opinion about it is okay and acceptable. Personally, I can't wait to see how the trilogy is going to conclude.

I have already several years ago decided that Lars von Trier's movies can neither be called good or bad, they are always different and thought provoking but most certainly also irritating and annoying. Manderlay is no exception.

Our heroin spots a dictator on the axis of evil, storms in with light sabers and an ever-optimistic smile, brushes away the dictator and her regime, and is proud of having brought freedom and democracy to yet another place (any similarities with other persons - living or dead - are fully intentional and of course debatable).

But how do you make democracy work when people have not learned it through practice and the collective memory of democracy's fallacies since the ancient Greek city states. How do you make people value their freedom and be responsible for their own fortune, when it is much more comfortable to blame someone else for their fate.

Von Trier brilliantly and ironically discusses these issues with surprising twists in the plot. But he will most definitely offend all kinds of Americans who will be too rash to judge this movie as anything between a misunderstanding and an insult of the American people of whatever color.

Bryce Dallas Howard (Grace) delivers a great performance.

To make a movie on an almost naked stage with imaginary doors etc. is very different from anything else and it actually could contribute to focus more on the actors performance (as on a theater stage). But I think that the hasty cutting of scenes and the annoyingly shaky hand-held camera actually diminish the actors chances of delivering a forceful performance. I don't mind the hand-held camera of the Dogma movies, but this is no Dogma movie. It has "artificial" music, sound effects, lightning, requisites, etc. So why bother to have a hand-held camera.

Manderlay is an excellent movie for anybody who enjoys being provoked or how wants to confirm her/his prejudice about von Trier as a weird director with tendencies to be proud-to-be-old-Europe.

Indeed one of this years best films. I have just returned from the cinema, and i'm still thinking about Manderlay. The story continues where Dogville ended. Grace and her father makes a short brake their travel, and discovers that a slave is getting punished near by in a plantation named Manderlay. Grace's father continues his travel and Grace stays in Manderlay to set the slaves free, as they should have been 70 years ago, when the slavery was made illegal. And of course this is not easy.

Manderlay isn't as shocking and far out as Dogville was. Not that it was a bad thing of course. But this is just a very much stronger film, because you get personally involved in the characters in a way that i don't think you did in Dogville. The only thing missing is a little bit of action. Nothing really happens. People just walk around and talk. The biggest scenes in the film has no direct influence on the following physical action and development in the story. well of course they does, but the development lies in the head of the characters. These developments are more interesting to analyze after you have seen the movie that during the movie. But instead of a lot of physical action we are given as i remember three truly terrifying and terrific scenes that are as strong as scenes in Dancer in the Dark and Breaking the Waves, and they does in my opinion make up for the lack of action.

Manderlay is also a lot stronger i it's message than Dogville was. Yes, the message is pointed against USA, but as in Dogville, it is so much more than just a criticism of that country... it's a criticism of the human kind. The reason for Lars von Trier to place the story in USA is that he likes to tease the big ones. He said that in an interview on TV not so long ago. He also said that the screenplay was written before the incidents in Iraq, so it's a coincidence that there are so many parallels between the events in Manderlay and in Iraq.

Lars von Trier is in my opinion one of the biggest directors of our time. It takes a courage, that i see in no other directors than him, to make a film like this. Manderlay is one of the bravest movies i have seen.

Von Trier's Brechtian Gamble On Manderlay This time "liberal" is a dirty word By Jayson Harsin

"The movement must address itself to the question of restructuring the whole of American society . . . America must be born again!" — Martin Luther King Jr. 1967

"Dear (American) liberals, You're Idiots! Love, Lars."

In a nutshell, that is the message of Manderlay, controversial Danish filmmaker Lars Von Trier's latest effort. Yet Manderlay is a complicated film that will produce multiple interpretations. Some will walk away calling it racist and anti-American. Others will find it a condemnation of Bush's war in Iraq. Yet, as I say, it is mostly a critique of American liberal politics. A condemnation of conservative racial politics is its point of departure. The film's complicated style and extreme plot produce intentional uneasiness.

Von Trier has cited German playwright Bertolt Brecht (right) as an artistic inspiration; yet one may wonder if he is reinventing the Brechtian wheel, one that Brecht himself admitted did not turn for others as he had wished.

[...]

On one level, the film is set in 1930s Alabama, on a plantation called Manderlay, where 70 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, slavery is apparently still being practiced. Continuing the narrative of Dogville, Grace (now Bryce Howard), after touring with her gangster father (now Willem Dafoe) and his thugs since her departure from Dogville, stumbles upon Manderlay with her father's entourage. She is alerted to the anachronistic existence of slavery by a slave who asks her for help. Her father asserts that this is a "local matter," echoing a common Southern response to Federal intervention in race problems that was often coded through "states' rights." It specifically recalls the language of Martin Luther King's powerful "Letter from Birmingham Jail," in which he responded to Southern clergymen who had accused him of, among other things, being a meddling outsider.

White liberal American intellectuals will no doubt have a hard time resisting identification with the white do-gooder Grace, who, like the North, the Federal government, and the social worker, believes that race relations at Manderlay are in moral terms not a local matter. "We have a moral obligation," Grace says to her father, as she persuades him to loan her gangster firepower to oversee her reform initiative.

But King was African-American and Grace is white. Should that matter? It matters in terms of Von Trier's audience (mostly American art cinema liberals and European intellectuals). It also matters for the history of white social and policy reactions to "the race problem," liberal and conservative responses, from segregation to integration, welfare to workfare, white flight to affirmative action. Grace's color is extremely significant. Resonances with Faulkner's Intruder in the Dust and Absalom, Absalom can also be found in the simplicity of the white liberal Northerner's analysis and solution to race problems. In this sense, Von Trier's provocative film is perhaps above all else an indictment of American liberalism (or liberal individualism), domestically and globally. All of these aspects should be considered through the lens of his Brechtian alienation techniques. Otherwise, this turns out to be one of the most ignominiously racist films since Birth of a Nation.

First, domestically: the historical debate about freedmen and resistance to them is important. While one could go back further, the contradictions of the modern liberal-race problem invoked by Von Trier date from the end of the Civil War. From 1865-1867, white southerners made very little effort to welcome African-Americans into a reborn American society (symbolized by the historically altered Constitution). The Ku Klux Klan together with the Black Codes terrorized African-Americans physically and deprived them of education and the legal franchise. While some American historians have noted the important changes of freedmen and -women marrying; establishing households, schools, and churches; owning 20 percent more land during the Reconstruction years — others emphasize that even so, the country did not solve the problem of race. And the South in particular, in terms of land reforms, enfranchisement, and education, was not ready to change of its own accord. Many African-Americans exercised agency and made valiant efforts to become self-sufficient, yet they faced no little opposition from the planter class and some poor whites (even though evidence exists of some alliances between African-Americans and poor whites).

While Von Trier's film does little to emphasize the efforts made by African-Americans to exercise their freedom in the ways I've noted, it is virtuosic at portraying the structures many faced when they set foot off the plantation (symbolized by a shortlived character who, venturing off the plantation, waits for a sympathetic woman, a white reformer like Grace, but finds bloodthirsty white men instead). The role of a traveling salesman huckster also portrays the white mediation of emancipation through debt peonage and sharecropping. The failure of Reconstruction with the Compromise of 1877 brought a more precarious period of civil and economic life to African-Americans in the South.

And yet Manderlay makes claims to a historical context in the 1930s. Here von Trier's dramatic vehicle of slavery existing in the 1930s is again more metaphorical than realist. The point is that while the furniture of racism was rearranged, it was still the same racist edifice. In addition, the role of an African-American leader is played by Wilhelm (Danny Glover), a house slave entrusted with knowledge of the entire Manderlay plantation rules and governance. Echoing views of nineteenth-century African-American leader Booker T. Washington, Wilhelm's analysis is that under the conditions at Manderlay, his people will meet a better life by consenting to the old social structures. The fact that armed gangsters must enforce the redistribution of social roles on one piece of property, which disappears when they disappear, is not a little reminiscent of Reconstruction military occupation of the South and its aftermath. To read on, see the full review at http://www.brightlightsfilm.com/51/manderlay.htm

A person may not have to see "Dogville" before they get to this film-- but it helps. Von Trier takes his time getting where he is going, laying tracks in plenty of directions, and if you are not familiar with his style and don't know that it will all end with a colossal crunch, you may feel bored or confused. Fear not, though-- this movie's climax and finish depend wholly on the build-up, and when they happen they are shattering. In a shorter movie with less nuance and fewer ideas presented, it would just be exploitation.

Critics who say that Lars von Trier is just grinding an axe and that his views on America are unwelcome and inaccurate are missing the larger point. So far the two movies of his new trilogy seem to be seething with questions, not preaching answers. The spectrum of perspectives and philosophies presented make these movies themselves as experimental as the moral quests of Tom in "Dogville" and Grace in "Manderlay". We get to share initial outrage, labor for a solution, and then despair in how easily it all falls apart once human weakness and natural disaster are factored in.

Adjusting to the change of casting takes a few moments, but then it just fits right in with the theatrical nature of these movies. Anyone who has seen a play performed with different casts knows that the two productions are weird cousins, and this can make actors shine in their individual gifts. I would have loved to see Nicole Kidman devour this role, but Howard's youth and vulnerability really add to the tenuous nature of her power over Manderlay and its dark secrets.

I think it's lucky that von Trier is not an American. If an American director showed these images of oppression and slavery, he'd be reviled even moreso, especially if he were white. Americans demand "sensitivity" from movies about real issues, and violence and humiliation are really only safe subjects in horror films and art cinema. Sometimes it takes an outsider to show you what you look like to the world and remind you of the work you have left to do. This movie feels distinctly American in its woe and in it's heartsickness at good deeds gone not unpunished. Isn't change impossible? Haven't we given it our best shot already? "Manderlay" agrees with us-- but urges us to keep trying.