Dancer in the Dark (2000)
Dir. Lars von Trier
By Lauren Branch
As a loyal matriarch of musical expression myself (*cue metatheatrical burst into song*), my emotions toward main character Selma in Lars von Trier’s 2000 drama Dancer in the Dark extend far beyond the bounds of simply empathizing with Selma’s deteriorating condition, as anyone would, but rather I caught myself tripping into an affair with her endearing personality and perspective on life that resonated long after the songs had ceased. Selma is a Czech immigrant and single-mother factory worker in the rural American great beyond whose effortful jab at the American Dream lands her into the grueling pockets of her merciless peers, the industrial workforce, and the unforgiving justice system all while grappling with the gradual loss of her eyesight. Worrisome that her son Gene will eventually face a similar fate, Selma bustles relentlessly amidst a work environment ridden with bodily exhaust and sharp edges, both literally and figuratively, in hopes to save up enough for a sight-saving eye operation for Gene. As if the very encounters of Selma’s daily life weren’t crippling enough, when a neighbor falsely accuses Selma of theft it strikes a downward spiral of misfortune in Selma’s life, ultimately leading to a devasting outcome. Selma’s saving grace: her passion for fever-dreaming herself into classical Hollywood musical numbers, singing and dancing her way through tragedy after tragedy.
Do I fall victim to the same tendency? Maybe. Are my circumstances so drastic that I’m forced into such daydreams for my own sanity? Of course not. In fact, that seems to be this film’s fatal catch, the absurdity of it all. Aside from having to suspend my fanhood of Icelandic popstar Björk who stars as Selma, the plot itself is rather deliberately implausible, encouraging viewers to just stop proof-watching for realistic appeal and just accept what’s happening. This story does not rely on its realism or candidness, but rather on its introspective dive into the psyche of what it means to be human amidst unspeakable tragedy, particularly when failed by the system around us. Its appeal comes in the form of thematic interpretation – those themes being classism, industrialization, the death penalty, and so on. Essentially, this film is the compounding of several crumbling areas of Selma’s life, and we, as viewers, are either sobbing or perplexed on the sidelines forced to witness her inescapable downfall. Between the cinematographic choices, unique casting and acting styles, disorienting story, lack of commercial appeal, and pretty much most other aspects, everything about this viewing experience screams atypical. Yet, despite its unconventional and unsettling qualities, Dancer in the Dark is undoubtedly an emotional brew of heroism and heartbreak.
