MAJOR SPOILERS:
Nymphomania. A woman’s sex addiction was always going to be a movie subject bound to attract some curiosity, especially if you found out that the director involved helmed the notorious ‘Antichrist’, a film that revealed Willem Dafoe’s O-face to unsuspecting audiences worldwide. And just purely on the curiosity front, Von Trier definitely doesn’t disappoint with Nymphomaniac. As a substantive and consistent work on the other hand, Von Trier misses the mark slightly. A 5 hour magnum opus that debuted in its full and uncut form in Von Trier’s native Denmark, the film was edited into two approximately 2 hour-long volumes without the director’s involvement, and one can speculate that this was done for financial reasons of commercial viability (this might be a long shot, but a 5 hour-long marathon of gratuitous nudity, violence, and graphic sex may be too much of an ask for most audiences). For all intents and purposes though, dividing this film serves absolutely no artistic or creative function; Nymphomaniac is one single film and will be reviewed as such.
With a set up reminiscent of something you would see in a theatrical production, the majority of the film is narrated in retrospect by our protagonist, Joe (Gainsbourg). She recounts her tale through a sophisticated film-long conversation with Seligman (Skarsgard), a gentle and good-natured man who discovers the beaten and bloodied Joe in a derelict alley and takes her to his home to recover. And it is in Seligman’s dreary bedroom that we find out how exactly she got to that point in her life: what unfolds is a fantastical and lurid story that has to be seen to be believed, and one that even Seligman himself begins to question at times. While much of the dialogue, especially between Joe and Seligman, feels stilted and artificial, this comes with the territory in a Von Trier film. His films aren’t interested in reality per se, more an artistic interpretation/embellishment of reality that seeks to reveal truth that exists in the world.
Although they are both lone wolfs, our two main characters are, for the purposes of this film, complete polar opposites. A completely de-sexualized metaphorical eunuch, the bookish and timid Seligman listens to her story with an avid fascination, but as Joe notes early on, he doesn’t particularly find the sexual parts titillating; his interests are more cerebral and scholarly in nature. But even while Seligman is as non-threatening as they come, there is something worrisome and off-putting about him; he is a man who has clearly spent too much time time imprisoned in isolation with only his books to keep him company. Joe is another person in solitary confinement; the makings of her prison, however, are of a completely different nature. The Joe we meet is a bruised and broken wreck of a woman, both emotionally and physically. Driven by an immense self-loathing, Joe’s journey is one to find salvation for herself as she explores with Seligman the various avenues her sexual addiction has taken her. Nymphomaniac isn’t just about naughty sex scenes and BDSM à la 50 Shades of Grey; it’s about a woman’s struggle to reconcile her unquenchable and overwhelming sexuality with her identity as a human being and her desire to have some semblance of a happy, normal and validated life. Powerful stuff indeed.
Shot in Von Trier’s typical minimalist style that puts the focus on the characters above all else, Nymphomaniac’s frankness on a taboo subject is refreshing. While numerous scenes are explicit and risqué, they never feel exploitative or cheap; here is a director who has complete mastery of his vision for this project and a confidence and daring to see it through that is clearly visible on screen. Utilizing his muse Charlotte Gainsbourg to great effect once more, what’s surprising is that a sizable bulk of Joe’s part is actually played by actress Stacy Martin, a complete unknown who portrays Joe during her younger years. The interesting thing to notice here is that the actresses embody very different portrayals of the same woman, to the extent that it doesn’t feel like the same person. While the young Joe imbues more ethereal qualities and a vivacious sexuality, the older version radiates a world-wearied inner strength and a refined frustrated anger of sorts. But while the performances of Seligman and Joe are spot on, it is in the casting decisions of Nymphomaniac that we find the most glaring flaws. As Joe’s on-again off-again love interest Jerôme, Shia LaBeouf is an unmitigated disaster. Watching the American actor, who actually has a substantial role in this film, struggle with an inconsistent and woeful British accent is jarring and immediately takes you out of the experience. And although not quite as disastrous, the performance of former Hollywood A-lister Christian Slater as Joe’s father comes with an equally off-putting British accent. A note should be also made about the misguided choice to cast a different actor to portray Jerôme as an older man, a choice that will undoubtedly confuse audiences and take them out of the experience once more.
While those are the most blatant mistakes, this only scratches the surface of what could have been done better in Nymphomaniac. The novelistic framing structure is interesting in that it's both a drawback and a plus in this movie. While it’s initially entertaining to watch Joe find sources of inspiration in Seligman's bedroom for the chapter headings of her story, it starts to feel perfunctory and unnecessary further on into the film, especially when it tends to be a cue for Seligman to get into some bizarre metaphysical ponderings and analogies. And as is often the case with films that traverse into 3 or 4 hour territory, some parts will be stronger than others and the flabby Nymphomaniac is no exception. While there is endless creativity to be found here, some chapters are more intriguing and effective, it’s as simple as that. Joe’s scenes with her dying father are ineffective and feel false, half-hearted even. While morbidly fascinating, the “Dangerous Men” chapter is overlong, perhaps needlessly graphic, and difficult to reconcile with the rest of the overall work. On the other hand, the segment involving Uma Thurman is inspired and equal parts hilarious and incredibly awkward (think an R-rated Ricky Gervais episode of The Office).
And perhaps this could be attributed to an unreliable narrator, but Joe’s relationships with the main characters in her life feel frustratingly hollow and incomplete. Although Jerôme comes closest to being the love of her life, he is a beguiling and truly mystifying character who comes and goes through the story and we never truly understand him or his motivations; we only seem to see him through the foggy prism of Joe’s flawed retrospection. The same could be said about Joe’s relationship with her parents and especially with P., a seemingly pivotal character whose part feels rushed and not as well thought out as the rest of the film. It is at the point that we get introduced to P. that everything starts to get wobbly and slightly farcical. Joe adopts a rather far-fetched profession and begins a poorly developed relationship with P., and what these actions lead her to make for a rather underwhelming and unsatisfactory conclusion after all that we’d been through with this character.
Is there identity outside of sexuality? Can one truly be a human being without any form of sexuality, suppressed or otherwise? The film seems to want to tell us that the answer to both questions is a resounding ‘No’. Seligman claims to be completely asexual, but as was the case with the suppressed paedophile Joe exposes towards the end of the film, her recounting of a sexually charged tale slowly and steadily opens the doors on a long stifled innate and irresistible sexual desire that Seligman inevitably must succumb to, for he is only human. Initially wary of him, as she must tend to be of all men, Joe eventually warms up to Seligman and begins to trust him, a fact that makes his betrayal in the end even more gut-wrenching, as predictable as basic human nature though it may be. This is where we get a oddly poetic complete role reversal from where the two principal characters started off: Joe resolves to become asexual, right when Seligman’s nascent sexuality finally begins to bloom. And in the end, with the powerful and viscerally representative image of Joe standing on a ledge across from a horribly twisted and contorted tree that continues to grow on the top of a rocky cliff against all the odds, the tragedy of Joe’s struggle becomes all the more obvious. Armed (literally) with a new determination to suppress her sexuality and salvage her life, the film closes on an ambiguous note. Will Joe succeed in her task? Yet again, all signs in the film point to the answer of that pivotal question being a 'No'.
Verdict: Equal parts frustrating and fascinating, Nymphomaniac is an unflinching and unglamorous chronicle of a woman’s sex addiction that comes packaged in the typical no holds barred Lars Von Trier approach. Themes of identity and its inextricable tie to sexuality are deftly touched upon, but the film’s impact is dented by a weak and misguided final third.
B-
Trailer:
Movie info:
Volume I Runtime: 118 minutes
Volume II Runtime: 123 minutes
MPAA Rating: R
Cast: Charlotte Gainsbourg, Stellan Skarsgard, Stacy Martin, Shia LaBeouf
Director: Lars von Trier
Screenplay: Lars von Trier
Cinematography: Manuel Alberto Claro
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