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Europa (1991) by Lars von Trier

“You will now listen to my voice. My voice will help you, and guide you still deeper into Europa. Every time you hear my voice, with every word and every number, you will enter a still deeper layer, open, relaxed and receptive. I shall now count from one to ten. On the count of ten, you will be in Europa. I say; One, and as you focus your attention entirely on my voice you will slowly begin to relax. Two, your hands and your fingers are getting warmer and heavier. Three, the warmth is spreading through your arms, to your shoulders and your neck. Four, your feet and your legs feel heavier. Five, the warmth is spreading to the whole of your body. On six I want you to go deeper. I say; Six, and the whole of your relaxed body is beginning to sink. Seven, you go deeper and deeper and deeper. Eight, on every breath you take, you go deeper. Nine, you are floating. On the mental count of ten, you will be in Europa. Be there at ten. I say; Ten.”

And on the narrators command we are transported into Europa; Lars von Trier’s dark and brooding film noir masterpiece that deals with themes of guilt and manipulation in post-war Germany. The protagonist is Leopold Kessler, an idealistic American of German descent who has come to Germany to work with his uncle as a first-class sleeping-car conductor. There he meets and is seduced by a strikingly beautiful young woman named Katharina, whose father owns the rail company Leopold now works for. As he is drawn into Katharina’s world he encounters the problems Germany is trying to face; a sense of national guilt over their countries actions during the war, a dark depression settling on Germany’s national psyche and the realities of living in an occupied and defeated country. The occupiers, meanwhile, concern themselves with administering tests to determine German citizens culpability in Nazi actions during the war, and dealing with the insurgence threat of the Werwolf (a group of commandos and Nazi sympathisers set on sabotaging Allied interests). But as Germany faces it’s past, so must Katharina, admitting to the now smitten Leopold that she used to be a member of the dreaded Werwolf group.

In a way, the story is almost incidental in the face of the spectacle of Europa. The plot is a standard thriller affair wrapped in allegory, with characters, music and cinematography so deeply recalling film noir that you have to wonder whether von Trier is offering up a pastiche or a homage, but it’s through his wonderful cinematic technique that Europa becomes something truly unique. The plot offers no surprises, everything is foreshadowed and hinted at via one method or another, but through von Trier’s manipulation the scenes remarkably lose none of their impact. Undoubtedly Europa is a cinematic masterpiece, but more for von Trier’s technique and than anything else.

Using all sorts of visual trickery such as double exposure, superimposition, aft and foreground projection, highly-choreographed, Hitchcock-esque camera movements and splashes of unexpected colour in the deep and oppressive high-contrast black and white world of Europa (a technique Spielberg would later ape to widespread acclaim in Schindler’s List), von Trier presents a composite image that shows the films larger themes. Through the hypnotic presence of Max von Sydow’s narrator who commands Leopold on his journey, the clever use of colour and interleaved images, the familiar plot and noir sensibilities, the way the occupying US forces manipulate the situation for their own gain and the way Katharina manipulates Leopold, the viewer is in turn expertly manipulated and taken along for the ride. The plot offers no surprises, everything is foreshadowed and hinted at via one method or another, but through von Trier’s manipulation the scenes remarkably lose none of their impact. Undoubtedly Europa is a cinematic masterpiece, but more for von Trier’s technique than anything else.

I decided this journey cinematic view all the films of directors selected by me add Lars Von Trier. Here you go for many years when I first heard about it. But nothing better than a detailed biography to explain who this character:
With a back-story (almost) as singular as his films, Danish director Lars von Trier was one of the most exceptional filmmakers to burst onto the international film scene in the 1990s. Unapologetically confident in his artistry and an unabashed provocateur, von Trier could kick up a fuss about his behavior, but his stylistic brio, extreme narratives, and ability with actors prevented such films as Zentropa (1991), The Kingdom (1994), Breaking the Waves (1996), and Dancer in the Dark (2000) from being eclipsed by their creator. Even as he openly sought a larger audience by making films in Español, von Trier’s success helped resurrect Scandinavian cinema’s international prominence, his intense fear of flying ensured he’d never “go Hollywood.” Raised by his radical, nudist Communist parents in an unconventional environment where the von Trier once put it, everything was permitted except “feelings, religion and enjoyment,” von Trier blossomed into a Neurotic, left-wing, movie-loving youth. Given the Super-8 camera at age 11, von Trier spent his teens making movies and entered Copenhagen’s film school in the early ‘80s. After winning prizes at the Munich Film Festival in 1981 and 1982 for his student films, and adding the aristocratic “von” to his name, the 1983 graduate managed to put together his low-budget debut feature, The Element of Crime (1984). A highly stylized neo-noir cop thriller set in a sepia-toned, water-logged future, The Element of Crime attracted favorable notice at the Cannes Film Festival, winning a prize for technical achievement. Von Trier continued his feature trilogy about Europe with the reflexive thriller Epidemic (1987). Starring the director as a director trying to raise money to make the movie-within-a-movie about a horrific virus unleashed on contemporary Germany, Epidemic was a controlled stab at postmodernism underlined that von Trier’s restless creativity even though it was not as well regarded . After a version of Medea (1988) for Danish television – presaging his 1990s focus on borderline women – von Trier completed his European trio with Europe (1991). A darkly comic drama set in post-WWII Germany, Europe dazzled viewers with its ambitious use of superimposition, rear projection, and dramatic shifts between black-and-white and color, definitively Establishing von Trier’s mastery of ominous atmospherics. Retitled Zentropa for its American release, Europe earned von Trier his first substantial international recognition as well as film festival notoriety. Disappointed by Europe’s third place Special Jury Prize at Cannes, von Trier accepted his award with thanks to “the midget,” jury chair Roman Polanski.Despite publicized an array of psychological problems, including crippling bouts of agoraphobia, von Trier continued to experiment and stretch his cinematic vision, announcing plans to make a film called Dimension, to be shot in three-minute increments over 30 years. While the results of that project remain to be seen, what von Trier made in the ensuing eight years vaulted him from cult status to bona fide directorial stardom.Turning his terror of hospitals into superb entertainment, von Trier mounted the chilling miniseries The Kingdom (1994 ) for Danish TV. Shot on location in a Copenhagen hospital in 16 mm with available light, The Kingdom was an inspired blend of Twin Peaks freakiness with ER procedural kineticism in its story of a haunted hospital. The TV and film festival hit, The Kingdom also became the precursor to the new aesthetic and spiritual concerns of von Trier’s subsequent 1990s feature films. Embroiled in personal turmoil mid-decade, including his mother’s 1995 deathbed revelation of his actual biological father (who wanted nothing to do with von Trier after an initial meeting), von Trier definitively rebelled against his past. Along with converting to Catholicism, von Trier broke from the perfectionist style of his trilogy Europe, aiming to Achieve the “honesty” he admired in Danish iconoclast Carl Theodore Dreyer’s work with his own self-imposed artistic “chastity.” Co-authoring the Dogme 95 manifesto with fellow Dane Thomas Vinterberg, von Trier declared that Dogme-ites should reject artifice by only telling contemporary stories and only shooting films on location, in natural light, with a handheld camera, and with location sound.Though von Trier’s next movie wasn ‘t pure Dogme, it did reveal his altered perspective. Drawing on the tradition of florid melodrama that von Trier and adored his family had despised, as well as his newfound spirituality, Breaking the Waves (1996) became an international sensation. Broken up by vividly colored chapter “headings” created in collaboration with painter Pers Kirkeby, Breaking the Waves’ disturbing story of female sacrifice and martyrdom was lent sexual dizzying immediacy by cinematographer Robby Müller’s bravery, desaturated handheld camera work and film newcomer Emily Watson’s intense performance as the simple-minded, devoted, Bess. Praised for its fearless visuals, naked spirituality, audacious and emotionalism, and damned by some for its exploitative view of women, Breaking the Waves became an art house hit and earned von Trier dissatisfying another Cannes prize (the second place Grand Jury citation) and Watson an Oscar nomination for Best Actress.Before his own entry in the Dogme canon, von Trier returned to his terrifying hospital for the miniseries sequel to The Kingdom. As popular as its predecessor, The Kingdom II (1997) was more outrageously (and comically) horrifying, grotesque reaching a peak with Udo Keir’s performance as an enormous mutant spawn. Though von Trier intended to complete the yarn with The Kingdom III, lead actor Ernst-Hugo Järegård’s death in 1998 put the project in limbo. ABC, though, announced an American TV remake of The Kingdom to be written by Stephen King.Following Dogme 95’s first international recognition with Vinterberg’s The Celebration (1997), von Trier’s own Dogme work The Idiots (1998) caused yet another stir. Though the roughly shot digital video depiction of a commune who “spaz” to disrupt bourgeois complacency and their effect on one female member raised eyebrows over its treatment of the mentally challenged, The Idiots also drew attention when von Trier refused to cut the sequence’s hardcore orgy nudity, superimposing black bars over the offending body parts instead. Von Trier became really angry, however, when the producers artificially corrected the lighting for the video release in 1999. Whatever its weaknesses, The Idiots helped to strengthen the Dogme 95 movement, which continued to expand with such films as Mifune (1999), Julien Donkey-Boy (1999), and Italian for Beginners (2001). After executive-producing the popular Danish TV romance Morten Korch (1999), von Trier completed his “Golden Hearts” trilogy film about disturbed near-saintly women with perhaps his most divisive work to date, Dancer in the Dark (2000). Combining melodrama with the music, another of his favorite genres, and shot in washed-out handheld video, save for the deliriously colorful, kaleidoscopic musical interludes, Dancer in the Dark Music upended conventions while inflicting an almost unbearable amount of suffering on doomed heroine Selma . Debuting at Cannes on the heels of well-publicized on-set strife between von Trier and star Bjork, Dancer in the Dark provoked as many boos as cheers on the way to winning the Best Actress prize and von Trier’s longed-for Palme D’Or . While some critics slammed Dancer for its depiction of America (where plane-phobe von Trier has never been), its aesthetic ugliness, and emotional battery, others praised its daring style and visceral impact. Bjork’s appearance at the Oscars in a swan dress to perform Dancer’s nominated song “I’ve Seen It All” occasioned a similar love-it-or-hate-it response.Taking the uproar in stride as always, von Trier began shooting his next film, Dogville, in 2002. Eschewing digital video for HDTV and casting Nicole Kidman in the lead, von Trier all but guaranteed that Dogville would be another noteworthy endeavor.
(Source: http://www.allmovie.com/cg/avg.dll?p=avg&sql=2:118403 ~ T1)
The first film in the films of Lars Von Trier that Vision was Europe. The opportunity came at a time when least expected, I had the opportunity to see the film a free way through the social network The Auteurs. So now knowing a little about the career of this director decided I had to see the movie. I had seen other Von Trier, like Dancer in the Dark (2000) and Dogville (2003) I’ll have to see again.
Only at the end of the movie I remembered a time when you had the opportunity to have read a book by George Steiner called The Idea Of Europe. Somehow it occurred to me the thought that the book would be related to the film. Frankly, as far as I can remember, I have never read a book, at least full Steiner, unless what I’m talking about now. However, what was not to my surprise when I realized that among his works were some that address the Holocaust.
The film itself is much to say. First I have to admit that is a very unique way of producing and directing a movie. The narrative and the space where it occurs, for me, something new about the approach that you can have in context of a time that was black for humanity. But this film is not only addressed the most significant of which was recorded for history. On the other hand we have a criticism of the intervention of the allied countries, notably the U.S. after the war.
The innocence of our protagonist in the first act, during the second and culminating in the third, occurs in a metamorphosis of an angel to devil. Another aspect is the evocation of the sub-conscious as the leader of our actions and also, of course, we have a voice that fuels our actions and often, in dreams, give the sensation of déjà vu. Finally, the game which Von Trier makes the black and white and color. In a post on the film Coppola’s Tetro had already talked about this technique in a movie. But the truth is that now I desire to better understand the symbolism of this technique in the movie. Moreover failed to leave the description that The Criterion Collection has done on the movie:
“You will now listen to my voice. . . On the count of ten you will be in Europe. . . "So begins Max von Sydow’s opening narration to Lars von Trier’s hypnotic Europa (known in the U.S. the Zentropa), a fever dream in which American pacifist Leopold Kessler (Jean-Marc Barr) stumbles into a job as a sleeping-car conductor for the Zentropa railways in a Kafkaesque 1945 postwar Frankfurt. With its gorgeous black-and-white and color imagery and meticulously recreated (if then nightmarishly deconstructed) costumes and sets, Europe is one of the great Danish filmmaker’s weirdest and most wonderful works, a runaway train ride to an oddly futuristic past.

It was a couple years ago when I first saw Europa alone past midnight but the blurring tracks and Sydow’s opening words still echo through my head at the very mention of this film; it has a way of lulling you into the railways shortly thereafter. But this is no hook. The visual constructions (and I believe that’s the way to put it) and color disparities are not unlike Hannah Hoch’s famous Kitchen Knife collage. A harrowing work laden with one arresting scene after another, this is a postwar Germany previously unimagined. Even considering a distinctive career marked by a number of risks, this is arguably one of Trier’s most radical pieces. Like a recurring dream, Europa is a hard one to shake.