A low-budget flavour and creeping plot familiarity are masked by a kinetic, throbbing aesthetic pulse, which contrasts with the intimacy of the drama itself, as well as with the stoic, if convincing lead performance. Contrasts are also evident with its cousin in the more polished, thundering opera of Melancholia, with Marling’s embodiment of domestic and cosmic ennui amidst a fragmented mindset, further taking on a more ascetic quality to Dunst’s too. While the cathartic groundswells of von Trier’s film may remain more immediately resounding, Cahill does manage to steer a harmony between the varied parts of this small but sturdy first effort of his, creating a fairly piercing and evocative chamber piece still. Strangely beguiling.