FILM: Breaking the Waves (1996)

The plot synopsis on the DVD cover of Breaking the Waves is as follows: an innocent young woman gets married and discovers physical pleasure like she had never imagined, but then her husband becomes paralyzed in an accident and asks her to take other lovers; extraordinary insights about the nature of love are the result. Based solely on this description and on the slew of critical awards which this Lars von Trier film won in the '90s, I bought the disc without having seen it, thinking it would be right up my alley. Last weekend I popped it into my DVD player expecting to watch some erotic but off-kilter softcore. I could not have been more wrong. The sex scenes progress from awkward to bizarre to ugly to so disturbing that I wanted to turn off the movie before it was over.

But then, when it finally was over, something extraordinary happened. I was shot through with an intense sensation of the sort that only Art, and not mere entertainment, can provide. I sat through the credits physically unable to move, so strong was the feeling. I actually went online afterward trying to find clues as to what I had just felt. One reviewer had written, "Quite simply the most emotionally devastating film I have ever seen." Was that it? The New York Times' review perfectly captured my paralysis during the credits: "Audiences...can be expected to spend an unusually long time studying the closing credits, regaining their composure."

The spiritual experience (for lack of a better word) given to me by Breaking the Waves was a highlight of my entire aesthetic life. Whether it was ecstasy, devastation, or a complete loss of composure, that after-film feeling is the El Dorado of a person's cinematic travels. The puzzle for me now is to figure out how it was evoked. For one thing, I'm not sure I learned anything from this film about love. Emily Watson's accoladed debut in the role of Bess, for which she was nominated for an Academy Award as Best Actress, portrays an ignorant and singleminded person who just happens to be motivated by love. What can be said, though, is that there is a rawness and lack of inhibition to this movie, as you can see in Bess's self-punishing dialogues with God, shot with low lighting that exaggerates the paleness of her skin and the dark of her lips. We are jolted, in part, thanks to von Trier's bravery in getting so close to his character on her unpleasant journey.