The House That Jack Built

You know that a Lars von Trier serial killer movie is unlikely to be like anyone else's serial killer movie; that it is most likely to be more gruesome and perhaps even with a streak of very black humour and "The House that Jack Built" certainly doesn't disappoint. What we might not have guessed was that it would take the form of a dialogue between our serial killer, Jack, (a never better Matt Dillon), and some Stygian boatman who is probably rowing him all the way to Hades, (Bruno Ganz. perfectly cast).

When it was shown at Cannes a number of critics walked out. Why? Could they really have been so sensitive or did they just want to punish von Trier for even showing up? Certainly no-one could deny that as serial killer movies go this one is highly original; you might even call it pretentious but then you'd be missing the joke or could that have been the reason for those walk-outs? Serial killers aren't supposed to be funny.

Using animation, paintings and newsreels to illustrate Jack's 'career' von Trier goes his own way as usual and the von Trier way is, as we know, both shocking and disturbing in ways other director's films simply aren't. If you want to see a 'thriller', forget it but if you want to get inside the head of one crazily inventive outsider, (von Trier, who else), then this is the one for you.

I just saw Lars Von Trier's new film 'The House That Jack Built' at the Atlantic Film Festival. I'm not extremely familiar with Trier's other work (I love Antichrist and Dancer in the dark is one of the most depressing films I've ever seen), but I've still been looking forward to this one since its premiere at Cannes. The subject matter peaked my interest and the trailer looked great. The early reviews got me even more invested as everyone was saying it was Trier's most disturbing and violent film yet.

'The House That Jack Built' was fairly brutal, yet oddly comical (if you can look past the disturbing material) and widely entertaining. I was not expecting it to be as funny as it was considering all of the 'hype' around the film's dark brutality since its screening at Cannes. Having said that there are some extremely gruesome and disturbing scenes which are effective in what they set out to do.

The film is divided into 5 sections plus an epilogue. A strange structure but ultimately I think that it benefited the film as we see a slight progression of Jack's character throughout. Though it can feel a bit repetitive at points, it never gets boring and is continuously engaging. Matt Dillon was excellent as the truly psychopathic serial killer Jack. It was honestly probably the best role I've seen him in (seriously, he should be in more movies).

There are many philosophical discussions about the nature of art throughout the film. This can either come off as super pretentious or can actually add to the film. I thought it worked fine in the context of the film as it relates very much to the character of Jack and how he views himself and his, so to say, 'art'

The film portrays the violence in a fairly realistic manner and does not hold back. At all. Seriously, the movie is not for the faint of heart. But it never came across as gratuitous or 'edgy'. It felt like Trier was just showing us what these scenarios would look like if a serial killer viewed his killings as art.

If you're a fan of Trier's work then definitely try and see this one. Even if you're just a fan of disturbing art-films, check it out. It has a screening at VIFF in October but other than that I have no idea where you can see it. Surprisingly, the Atlantic Film Festival (Halifax, Nova Scotia) had a one-night screening for the film. Either way, try and see it if it looks interesting to you. I highly recommend it. 9/10.

Does anyone else miss pre-depression era Lars von Trier? I still give him Antichrist and even Melancholia, but the "just because" stylistic choices of the tedious Nymphomaniac made me yearn for a time when he had enough thought behind his unconventionality to give us his wonderful Dancer in the Dark, and enough humor to give us Riget. He was always nasty, defiant, and upsetting like only he knows how, but something has changed.

Now we have The House That Jack Built; another film that, despite how different it is from every other movie out now, still manages to be predictable if you know your Trier. I often defend strange decisions and rule-breaking in film, as with Michael Haneke's Funny Games, but Von Trier somehow manages to make clear that the only reason he's breaking the rules is that he's Von Trier, the supposed arthouse emperor. See what I did with that shot? Aren't these title cards weird? Look at how oddly edited everything is!

We get "more of the usual" in other departments as well. The documentary-esque camera work (à la Dogme 95), the super-slow-motion bits, the jump-cuts, the lengthy lecture-like conversations, and the controversial scenes of violence and mutilation. The villain protagonist, OCD-ridden serial killer Jack, narrates the film nigh constantly, and despite sometimes doing us the favor of explaining to us what he's thinking and feeling, I don't know that he ranks among the greatest, most complex killers of cinema.

Matt Dillon is good in the role but like many a recent Trier character, Jack rarely partakes in any particularly human-sounding interactions or monologues. It's difficult to emotionally connect with the characters of Trier lately, especially when they start reciting whatever opinion or observation was on the director's mind while he was writing and felt the need to vent.

The movie supposedly alludes to his fiasco at Cannes. You know, that time when he apparently "understood Hitler"? I didn't notice this when I saw the film myself but I believe in the critics (there's definitely a sequence where he congratulates himself on his filmography and dubs himself misunderstood). It's nice that he got to screen another film at the festival after all, but the film in question may have made his future at Cannes uncertain.

In the movie, Jack retells a number of "incidents" from the past 12 years of his life, where he would slaughter women played by the likes of Uma Thurman, Riley Keough, and Siobhan Fallon Hogan - these scenes, I gather, haven't exactly countered the idea that Von Trier has weird feelings about women. I maintain that he gave us admirable female characters in pictures like Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark, but who knows? Did the divorce change things?

Listening avidly to Jack's tale is Bruno Ganz, never seen by the viewer but often heard making obvious observations, and/or notes which Von Trier no doubt really WANTS the audience to make during a given scene. Again, thanks for the assistance.

The House That Jack Built is just not that rewarding to watch. It's amazing how a movie can be so different, so completely defiant, and yet so completely unsurprising at the same time. When you're spoonfed all emotions and themes, and you've gotten used to the cruel violence and even the persistent rule-breaking within the presentation, what's there to chew on? Towards the end, the film goes for a more surreal (albeit at times just "random") approach and I find myself interested again, although it isn't quite enough.

Hell, the film doesn't even have Udo Kier. What kind of Von Trier film is that?

The story follows Jack (Matt Dillon), a highly intelligent serial killer, over the course of 12 years, and depicts the murders that develop his inner madman.

Also starring - Bruno Ganz, Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan, Sofie Gråbøl, Riley Keough, Jeremy Davies.

This doesn't happen often: I watched the whole movie, the two and a half hours of it, and still couldn't say whether I find it good or bad, or even whether I liked it or not. Didn't find it boring, that's for sure - although I wouldn't call it exciting either, exactly.

One reason are the short but vivid scenes of extreme violence, which make one take a mental step back from the experience, and even think about not writing a review at all. Just in case that some reader would think that I condone violence or something.

The second reason is, of course, Lars von Trier himself, the co-writer and director of this joint. He doesn't seem extreme in interviews, but when it comes to work, the notorious film-maker likes to provoke and divide audiences without hesitation.

And "The House That Jack Built" might just be one of his crowning achievements in that.

Critics are divided as well. Many see the movie as empty provocation, or just tedious. Some see it as a something more. One is certain: it's not a mainstream entertainment. Not only for the overall creepiness and length, but also for how it's been put together.

You see, Von Trier has been more interested in making a point than making a movie with audience-friendly flow or tempo.

Compared to the "regular" movies, there's no clear structure - yes, Jack's story is divided between five cases but what happens during each is never easily anticipated - or for how long.

This is one of those rare movies which keep you guessing for the most time, never knowing what can happen next.

Von Trier also doesn't try to build and hold suspense, like in a "normal" movie, especially the one about serial killers.

He may have even actively worked against letting us just watch and get carried away because there's so much narration during the whole thing - in fhe form of constant dialogue between Jack and his mysterious companion played by Bruno Ganz.

Maybe because of the spotaneousness and unpredicability of the central antihero, it somehow still works. I never found myself idling and bored. Even during the end-section that left me even quite puzzled, which was clearly the authors' intent.

What makes it all so provocative and divisive, then, you may ask. It's the constant narration or dialogue between the serial killer and his companion. They argue over different things, mainly whether killing can be considered as art, and what makes murder such a bad thing anyway.

At first glance, these may seem like a stupid questions, but there's more to these arguments than wish to break taboos or something. Von Trier has deeper thoughts on the matter, and he wishes to make the audience think along.

People will interpret Von Trier's intentions differently, which is surely part of his goal. I would summarize the central thesis that if art is an act of creation and self-expression, then artful killing can be art too (which it certainly is for the serial killer Jack).

And before you rush to claim that killing is bad, let's not forget that everybody is at least indirectly or partly responsible for certain amount of death around the world, from eating meat, or even buying it and then just throwing it away, to not taking an active stand against destroying the environment where we all live.

Von Trier goes on to discuss several connecting themes, such as how killing can be addiction and how most of the violence is somehow associated with only men.

But the most shocking parts are Jack's actual killings, especially some that I didn't believe the author would dare to include in this day and age of political correctness.

Then again, the director's own stance seems to be against killing, because it's never glorified which is rare in the movies indeed.

Some of these acts may be funny in their own horrible way but none is intended to make you feel this adrenalin-induced watching glee as in most action flicks. If a person gets shot, for example, there's nothing cool and visually captivating about it. One just drops down like a big bag of flour, and stays this way.

Having commented on all the "important" things about the production, I can't forget Matt Dillon giving a remarkable performance as our anti-hero.

Just like the movie's approach to killings, there is nothing show-offish about him work. He seems to have wholly immersed into this character which makes him just mesmerizing in its own quiet way.

Dillon's easy naturalness combined with the unpredictability of the character makes this a cinematic "bad guy" to remember, although there's little unforgettably cinematic about him per se.

"The House That Jack Built" is a movie quite unlike anything else that you can see in cinemas this year. Unless you and I visit very different kind of cinemas.

Anyway, don't approach without hard stomach. Von Trier is not for everybody, and has never been, especially his latest.

Lars Von Trier's 2018 film, "The House That Jack Built," transcends its surface narrative as a grimly comedic exploration of art and violence to serve as a potent dissection of its creator's own psyche.

The film's brutal story, punctuated by the existential musings of its titular character, Jack (Matt Dillon), serves as a conduit through which the filmmaker grapples with his own artistic impulses and the expectations levied upon him by society. To understand the film in its fullest context, one needs to delve deep into Von Trier's psyche and the broader tapestry of his own work.

Von Trier has been known for his controversial films, which often push the boundaries of societal norms and cinematic conventions. These are no casual forays into discomfort, but rather, they are systematic explorations of the human condition and the outer limits of behavior. At times, it seems as though Von Trier himself may benefit from psychoanalysis, if only to shed light on the psyche of the man who can create such unsettling masterpieces.

"The House That Jack Built," is not merely a tale about a serial killer; it is a study of a man who progressively pushes the boundaries of his art, mirroring Von Trier's own journey in filmmaking. Jack, initially an engineer, is bound by the constraints of his profession and societal norms, but he yearns for the freedom to be an architect, seeking to build a legacy for himself; something he can achieve through his own vision - in this instance, a house.

The pivotal moment in the film comes with the interjection of a sudden, transformative passion that sets Jack on a new path. It's a passion that steers Jack away from the norm, pushing him towards a path of greater personal significance - at least in his own eyes. This mirrors Von Trier's career, marked by a significant shift from mainstream narratives to pushing cinematic boundaries with films that provoke, challenge, and disturb.

Initially, Jack is depicted as a haphazard executioner, but as he grows more comfortable with his new 'craft,' his art becomes more daring, creative, and experimental. In a parallel manner, Von Trier's early pieces might have seemed less refined or unpredictable to some observers. However, as he honed his craft, experimented, trialed, and tests, he has developed a signature filmmaking style that consistently provokes intense responses from viewers.

In the end, Jack does indeed build a legacy, but not as he initially planned. His 'house' ends up being a collection of his monstrous deeds, a testament to his twisted artistic journey. Again, the parallels to Lars remain; His body of work, much like Jack's, has often been met with shock, controversy, and rejection. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he continues to create, leaving an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

Von Trier's "The House That Jack Built" is thus not just a film about a murderer, but an exploration of the nature of art and the struggle of the artist. It is a deep dive into the mind of an individual who defies convention, providing a provocative commentary on the creative process and the artist's role in society. It is, in many ways, a self-portrait of Von Trier himself, who, like his protagonist Jack, continually tests the limits of his artistry, undeterred by societal perceptions.