It was like waking from a dream: my producer showed me a
suggestion for a poster. “What is that?” I ask. ”It’s a film you’ve
made!” she replies. ”I hope not,” I stammer. Trailers are shown
... stills ... it looks like shit. I’m shaken.
Don’t get me wrong ... I’ve worked on the film for two years. With
great pleasure. But perhaps I’ve deceived myself. Let myself be
tempted. Not that anyone has done anything wrong ... on the
contrary, everybody has worked loyally and with talent toward
the goal defined by me alone. But when my producer presents
me with the cold facts, a shiver runs down my spine.
This is cream on cream. A woman’s film! I feel ready to reject the
film like a wrongly transplanted organ.
But what was it I wanted? With a state of mind as my starting
point, I desired to dive headlong into the abyss of German
romanticism. Wagner in spades. That much I know. But is that
not just another way of expressing defeat? Defeat to the lowest
of cinematic common denominators? Romance is abused in all
sorts of endlessly dull ways in mainstream products.
And then, I must admit, I have had happy love relationships with
romantic cinema ... to name the obvious: Visconti!
German romance that leaves you breathless. But in Visconti,
there was always something to elevate matters beyond the trivial
... elevate it to masterpieces!
I am confused now and feel guilty. What have I done?
Is it ’exit Trier?’ I cling to the hope that there may be a bone
splinter amid all the cream that may, after all, crack a fragile
tooth ... I close my eyes and hope!
Lars von Trier, Copenhagen, April 13, 2011.
http://www.festival-cannes.com/assets/Image/Direct/042199.pdf