Europa

Released as Zentropa in North America to avoid confusion with Agniezska Holland's own Holocaust film Europa Europa, this third theatrical feature by a filmmaker who never ceases to surprise, inspire or downright shock is a bizarre, nostalgic, elaborate film about a naive American in Germany shortly following the end of WWII. The American, named Leo, doesn't fully get what he's doing there. He has come to take part in fixing up the country since, in his mind, it's about time Germany was shown some charity. No matter how that sounds, he is not a Nazi sympathizer or so much as especially pro-German, merely mixed up. His uncle, who works on the railroad, gets Leo a job as a helmsman on a sleeping car, and he is increasingly enmeshed in a vortex of 1945 Germany's horrors and enigmas.

This progression starts when Leo, played rather memorably by the calm yet restless actor Jean-Marc Barr, meets a sultry heiress on the train played by Barbara Sukowa, an actress with gentility on the surface but internal vigor. She seduces him and then takes him home to meet her family, which owns the company which manufactures the trains. These were the precise trains that took Jews to their deaths during the war, but now they run a drab day-to-day timetable, and the woman's Uncle Kessler postures as another one of those good Germans who were just doing their jobs. There is also Udo Kier, the tremendous actor who blew me away in Von Trier's shocking second film Epidemic, though here he is mere scenery.

Another guest at the house is Eddie Constantine, an actor with a quiet strength, playing a somber American intelligence man. He can confirm that Uncle Kessler was a war criminal, though it is all completely baffling to Leo. Americans have been characterized as gullible rubes out of their element for decades, but little have they been more blithely unconcerned than Leo, who goes back to his job on what gradually looks like his own customized death train.

The story is told in a purposely uncoordinated manner by the film's Danish director, Lars Von Trier, whose anchor is in the film's breathtaking editing and cinematography. He shoots in black and white and color, he uses double-exposures, optical effects and trick photography, having actors interact with rear-projected footage, he places his characters inside a richly shaded visceral world so that they sometimes feel like insects, caught between glass for our more precise survey.

This Grand Jury Prize-winning surrealist work is allegorical, but maybe in a distinct tone for every viewer. I interpret it as a film about the last legs of Nazism, symbolized by the train, and the ethical accountability of Americans and others who appeared too late to salvage the martyrs of these trains and the camps where they distributed their condemned shiploads. During the time frame of the movie, and the Nazi state, and such significance to the train, are dead, but like decapitated chickens they persist in jolting through their reflexes.

The characters, music, dialogue, and plot are deliberately hammy and almost satirically procured from film noir conventions. The most entrancing points in the movie are the entirely cinematographic ones. Two trains halting back and forth, Barr on one and Sukowa on another. An underwater shot of proliferating blood. An uncommonly expressive sequence on what it must be like to drown. And most metaphysically affecting of all, an anesthetic shot of train tracks, as Max von Sydow's voice allures us to hark back to Europe with him, and abandon our personal restraint.

By watching this movie I discovered an artist that I waited too long to discover. Playing with multiple cinematographic tricks Trier not only bring us back in history but he also adopt the style that movie had in the time where the action is depicted. Also, with the rear screen projection, Trier had the chance to give his movie a unique depth of field and by the way to mix color and B&W and therefore make a magical masterpiece that can be appreciated by the dumb movie eaters that most of us are.

Von Trier has created a film that is a noir satire, a joke on psychotherapy, the last great hurrah for back-projection in movies (even tops "The Nasty Girl" in that depatment), a historical hoax, a satire of the Prussian work ethic, a satire of noir romances, and an indirect indictment on the firms which profited off twelve years of Hiterite insanity. The train is Germany, with Ernst-Hugo Jaregard and Jean Marc-Bar decked out as its' SS and military (notice the tunic design, the collar patch piping, the peaked caps, the fact that it's all black.) The Werewolves are taken from Reichspropagandaminister Goerbbles' last hat trick, that the Reich gov't. was prepping an army of saboteurs in 1944-45 to make occupation a misery. The Zentropa firm is a combination of the steel kingpin Krupp (which used slave labor at Auschwitz), and Deutche Reichsbahn (the state railway firm which sent so many to their deaths), along with others like Ford, who profited from Axis and Allied war efforts. Hence the burial sequence is doubly ironic; the Nazi war profiteer getting last rites in a ruined cattle car that was probably resposible for the oblivion of hundreds. The film leaves you with the suspicion that Nazism was an extreme expression of the German national psychology of sado-masochism and that 46 years later Hitler's shadow still stalked Europa (the cathedral scene was shot in an actual Polish cathedral which had been left roofless by the Communist Polish gov't.) I will say no more, but I do love the "Europa Aria" over the final credits. That song says more then I possibly could.

Von Trier once explained how he created such strong involvement from the viewer with his movies by placing his movie world in about the middle of the real world and the imagined world. So as viewers we think we watch a "true" story while in fact we are thoroughly manipulated, often to the point that the movie works disturbing (Dancer in the Dark) or painful (The Idiots/ Idioterne). Of course the Dogme-films acted only as a vehicle for this theory (besides creating some welcome spotlight on Von Trier).

The story is typical for Von Trier: our hero is idealistic, seems to balance his relations with everybody else, but soon becomes the victim of the problems others have created in the past for themselves. The idealist inevitably has to reject society in order to stay idealistic and becomes the terrorist. Mankind is spoiled and purity only leads to (self-)destruction. (These elements were also very omnipresent in Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark.) The movie is also full of cynical (even humorous) undertones about the role of the Germans and Americans in post-war Germany.

As a technical achievement the movie is wonderfully designed: shifting and fading washed-out colors, screen overlays, action on different overlays (with the shooting of the soon-to-be mayor as the most interesting). In this movie we can see how good Von Trier's handles film as a technical medium. In his later works he seems to step down from this (as if he is not longer interested in technical achievements because they become so easily available).

Zentropa is another von Trier film that manages to tell an authentically interesting story, revel in its own aesthetic beauty, and engage us in questions of metaphysics. The films narration, as described above, sets the gauntlet very high. The often tired flashback/hypnotism/relapse/etc structure poses a certain disaster to most of the films that dare to use it. However, it is pulled off masterfully.

With Zentropa, we must first buy into the introduction. We prepare ourselves to relive these moments, and allow the film to justify its use of this down the tracks. However, we learn very quickly that what we have been sold is not the standard omniscient perspective. It is distorted and fragmented; emotion has been poured on too thick at parts, while in others it is spread too thin. We must accept the story directly from a mind that we considerably mistrust.

The rest of the film tirelessly reconstructs the scenes of this deranged mind. We transition from b&w film, to color. From a nearly mystical hope, to an absurd pessimism. Time moves too slowly, but abruptly jumps ahead too quickly. von Trier understands the architecture of this 'hypnotic' state supremely.

The movie progresses sporadically which is mandatory given the structure. von Trier plays wonderfully with the noir genre, he throws in some espionage, some sex, love, hats and guns. Finally, he skillfully introduces issues of morality, war, and responsibility- adding a rich political dimension to an already layered film.

The final scenes are visually the most beautiful in the movie, and some of my all time personal favorites. The quiet, tenseless moments in this sequence finally allow us to sink into a comfortable pace and an agreeable aesthetic.

Ultimately, von Trier has framed this film around a giant question of reality. As is his standard. The fact that this metaphysical dimension continually impinges upon the film, justifies its validity. The question was artfully asked. And beneath this works a noir film, a veritable feast of imagery, and wonderful performances.