User Reviews

On October of 1945, the American German descendant Leopold Kessler (Jean-Marc Barr) arrives in a post-war Frankfurt and his bitter Uncle Kessler (Ernst-Hugo Järegård) gets a job for him in the Zentropa train line as a sleeping car conductor. While traveling in the train learning his profession, he sees the destructed occupied Germany and meets Katharina Hartmann (Barbara Sukowa), the daughter of the former powerful entrepreneur of transport business and owner of Zentropa, Max Hartmann (Jørgen Reenberg). Leopold stays neutral between the allied forces and the Germans, and becomes aware that there is a terrorist group called "Werewolves" killing the sympathizers of the allied and conducting subversive actions against the allied forces. He falls in love for Katharina, and sooner she discloses that she was a "Werewolf". When Max commits suicide, Leopold is also pressed by the "Werewolves" and need to take a position and a decision.

"Europa" is an impressive and anguishing Kafkanian story of the great Danish director Lars von Trier. Using an expressionist style that recalls Fritz Lang and alternating a magnificent black & white cinematography with some colored details, this movie discloses a difficult period of Germany and some of the problems this great nation had to face after being defeated in the war. Very impressive the action of the occupation forces destroying resources that could permit a faster reconstruction of a destroyed country, and the corruption with the Jew that should identify Max. Jean-Marc Barr has an stunning performance in the role of man that wants to stay neutral but is manipulated everywhere by everybody. The hypnotic narration of Max Von Sydow is another touch of class in this awarded film. My vote is nine.

Title (Brazil): "Europa"

A few years ago, a friend got from one of his other friends a video with the Michael Mann film 'Heat' on it. After we finished that movie, and were about to stand up, we saw that there is another film just after, tough on the cassette's envelope the owner didn't write it up. Yet we were all glued back to our seats by its distinct opening, which lacked credits.

Some two hours later, I just sat there wondering: how could I not have heard of this masterpiece before?...

This film was Europa. Lars von Trier woke film noir from the dead, deconstructed reality with intentionally obvious sets, yet often there was haunting similarity with post-war German photographs I saw. And then the tricky cuts!

The story itself is a hard-to-take moral odyssey that has no happy end. A young American pacifist of German descent comes to post-war Germany, intent on doing some good to pay for the bombs his countrymen dropped. But he mostly meets distrust and self-destructive defiance. He hires with Zentropa, a dining-and-sleeping-car company (modeled on Mitropa), whose owner is one of the Nazi collaborators the Occupiers whitewash. Our hero falls in love with his daughter - who later turns out to be a member of the Werewolf, Nazi post-war terrorists. When he doesn't understand the world (or just Europeans) anymore, in his rage he blows up a railroad bridge under a train which he just saved.

As a final note, for historical correctness: in the real world, the Werewolf were nowhere as important as the film implies, they were mostly a final Nazi propaganda coup. After an SS unit assassinated the major of Allied-occupied Aachen, two months before the capitulation, the Nazis announced the creation of whole legions of saboteurs and terrorists who will be ready to fight behind the lines, the Werewolf. But only a few hundred of mostly Hitler Youth received some training, and while two or three times some were deployed to murder suspected communists or forced-labourer foreigners in Bavarian villages to imprint lasting fear on inhabitants, with Hitler's death and the war's end it all fell apart.

However, the Werewolf propaganda had a profound effect on the occupiers. They feared the Werewolf everywhere, suspected it behind any serious accident - but without exception another cause was found later (ignored by some recent pseudo-historians). For example, when a gas main exploded in the police HQ of bombed-out Bremen, or when the Soviet military commander died in a motorbike accident in Berlin. The effect was strongest on the Soviets, who arrested tens of thousands (in large part children!) 'preemptively' on suspicion of being Werewolf, and closed them off in prison camps where a lot of them died.

Concluding the trilogy of films that began almost a decade earlier with the dark, industrial influenced film-noir experiment The Element of Crime (1984) and continuing with the largely unseen experimental horror-satire Epidemic (1987), this multi-layered, visually expressive post-war thriller finds precocious auteur Lars von Trier in his cinematic element; creating a mind bending and deeply hallucinogenic film-noir appropriation that references sources as diverse as Hitchcock, Bergman, Welles and Murnau, to create a myriad of expressionistic images, philosophies and moments of heart-stopping tension.

As with his later, more widely seen work, such as Breaking the Waves (1996) and The Idiots (1998), von Trier structures the film with a complete disregard for mainstream movie conventions - not just throwing out the cinematic rule book, but proudly stampeding it - as he strings together scene after scene of ethereal beauty; all backed by the haunting and distinctive narration of Max Von Sydow and the thrilling music of Joakim Holbek. The result is a film like no other; revelling in pretension and cinematic excess; Europa (1991) knows exactly what it is and raises a middle finger to anyone who refuses to buy into its central ideology. In keeping with the director's earlier works, the plot of Europa is threadbare, but never less than interesting; as Jean Marc Barr's bookish American goes back to Germany in the wake of World War II to discover his roots and lend a hand in the rebuilding of the country. Barr's character, Leopold Kessler, is a brazenly idealistic young man, peering out from behind his spectacles with wide eyes as he bravely suffers ridicule and contempt from all around him. Amongst this central narrative device we have the usual film-noir conventions of shadowy businessmen, the femme-fatale, etc. However, the film always comes back to von Trier's central ideology. If we have learned anything from the director's work, it is the ultimate image of the idealist being brought slowly to their knees and eventually destroyed. In both Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark (2000), von Trier concludes that those who live in false hope will sooner or later be smashed by a manipulative and unloving system.

His most successful realisation of this was with the aforementioned Dancer in the Dark, in which he mixed elements of melodrama and musical theatre with social-realist concerns to create a somewhat misguided indictment of the American judicial system within the context of a 1950's cinematic universe. His most controversial film, Breaking the Waves, again saw the destruction of a central martyr, with the childlike Emily Watson sacrificing her body to Christ - and various lecherous old men - in order to cure her crippled husband. With Europa, von Trier would lay the groundwork for these following films, whilst once again condemning the American's shallow, self-riotous image and animosity in the face of war (though perhaps more multi-faceted than that one-line assessment might suggest). The director also throws in ideas of fascism, terrorism and a hearty helping of post-modern references, though all in the name of cinematic experimentation, high style and unashamed visual manipulation.

Shot in a sort of off black and white - meaning that the images have been given a silvery blue tint, with deeply rich shadows - and framed in anamorphic cinemascope, Europa twists and turns with one jaw-dropping set piece after another. A simple assassination sequence is drawn out using forced perspectives, colour juxtaposition and rear screen projection to dizzying effect, and the way that the camera cranes and tracks, constantly offering us layer upon layer of visual symbolism is truly amazing. The iconography is bold, yet slightly clear-cut in comparison to the courageous departures that von Trier made with his earlier film The Element of Crime. Here we have he an expressionistic vision of Europe in severe decline, with Germany attempting to claw themselves out of the ashes and regain power as an important society (leading up to the eventual economic miracle of the early 1950's). Some have criticized Barr's character for not being heroic enough, missing the point of the film entirely. Kessler isn't supposed to be the hero, but rather a patsy or a puppet. He's an American going back to a country that his own military helped destroy, representing arrogant idealism; pointing out Germany's own weaknesses and posturing to gain acceptance. This is a much bleaker film once we start dealing with the issues of sub-text, as the scene that prefigures a prominent funeral will attest. For me, this is a stirring and imaginative film dealing with themes such as deception, manipulation and eventually, corruption.

With Europa, von Trier has structured a beautifully designed and thematically quite gripping thriller with both political and cinematic reference points in abundance. Most filmmakers would be terrified to put the viewer to sleep within the first five minutes, but Europa takes up that challenge, using Von Sydow's haunting voice to lull the viewer into a state of assumed hypnosis. Needless to say the film employs ideas of dream-logic, unfolding subjectively and expressionistically from the central character's point of view. The is a film that will linger long in the mind of anyone who experiences it, as the closing moments leave the audience adrift at sea, or as lost as Leopold Kessler. As Von Sydow observes in the film's closing narration; "we want to wake up, to leave behind the images of Europa... but it is not possible".

*Contains spoilers due to me having to describe some film techniques, so read at your own risk!*

I loved this film. The use of tinting in some of the scenes makes it seem like an old photograph come to life. I also enjoyed the projection of people on a back screen. For instance, in one scene, Leopold calls his wife and she is projected behind him rather than in a typical split screen. Her face is huge in the back and Leo's is in the foreground.

One of the best uses of this is when the young boys kill the Ravensteins on the train, a scene shot in an almost political poster style, with facial close ups. It reminded me of Battleship Potemkin, that intense constant style coupled with the spray of red to convey tons of horror without much gore. Same with the scene when Katharina finds her father dead in the bathtub...you can only see the red water on the side. It is one of the things I love about Von Trier, his understatement of horror, which ends up making it all the more creepy.

The use of text in the film was unique, like when Leo's character is pushed by the word, "Werewolf." I have never seen anything like that in a film.

The use of black comedy in this film was well done. Ernst-Hugo Järegård is great as Leo's uncle. It brings up the snickers I got from his role in the Kingdom (Riget.) This humor makes the plotline of absurd anal retentiveness of train conductors against the terrible backdrop of WW2 and all the chaos, easier to take. It reminds me of Riget in the way the hospital administrator is trying to maintain a normalcy at the end of part one when everything is going crazy. It shows that some people are truly oblivious to the awful things happening around them. Yet some people, like Leo, are tuned in, but do nothing positive about it.

The voice over, done expertly well by Max von Sydow, is amusing too. It draws you into the story and makes you jump into Leo's head, which at times is a scary place to be.

The movie brings up the point that one is a coward if they don't choose a side. I see the same idea used in Dancer in the Dark, where Bjork's character doesn't speak up for herself and ends up being her own destruction. Actually, at one time, Von Trier seemed anti-woman to me, by making Breaking the Waves and Dancer, but now I know his male characters don't fare well either! I found myself at the same place during the end of Dancer, when you seriously want the main character to rethink their actions, but of course, they never do!

Lars Von Trier is never backward in trying out new techniques. Some of them are very original while others are best forgotten.

He depicts postwar Germany as a nightmarish train journey. With so many cities lying in ruins, Leo Kessler a young American of German descent feels obliged to help in their restoration. It is not a simple task as he quickly finds out.

His uncle finds him a job as a night conductor on the Zentropa Railway Line. His job is to attend to the needs of the passengers. When the shoes are polished a chalk mark is made on the soles. A terrible argument ensues when a passenger's shoes are not chalked despite the fact they have been polished. There are many allusions to the German fanaticism of adherence to such stupid details.

The railway journey is like an allegory representing man's procession through life with all its trials and tribulations. In one sequence Leo dashes through the back carriages to discover them filled with half-starved bodies appearing to have just escaped from Auschwitz . These images, horrible as they are, are fleeting as in a dream, each with its own terrible impact yet unconnected.

At a station called Urmitz Leo jumps from the train with a parceled bomb. In view of many by-standers he connects the bomb to the underside of a carriage. He returns to his cabin and makes a connection to a time clock. Later he jumps from the train (at high speed) and lies in the cool grass on a river bank. Looking at the stars above he decides that his job is to build and not destroy. Subsequently as he sees the train approaching a giant bridge he runs at breakneck speed to board the train and stop the clock. If you care to analyse the situation it is a completely impossible task. Quite ridiculous in fact. It could only happen in a dream.

It's strange how one remembers little details such as a row of cups hanging on hooks and rattling away with the swaying of the train.

Despite the fact that this film is widely acclaimed, I prefer Lars Von Trier's later films (Breaking the Waves and The Idiots). The bomb scene described above really put me off. Perhaps I'm a realist.