My Essay on Melancholia by Rapewhistle (age 7)

Once upon a time back when I would barrel into IRC and talk crazy for lack of a better thing to do, I did a running commentary on a Lars Von Trier film called Antichrist. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a lighthearted family friendly romp about Bobby Peru and the other french chick they got instead of Amelie doing a weekend woods retreat to the shittiest summer rental cabin ever to cope with the death of their 4 year old son who jumped out of a window dusted to his gills on PCP. It doesn’t go well. Green Goblin gets the direct to DVD Hostel 3 treatment by “How You Say, What’s Her Name“. She jerks him off until he spoots blood and then cuts her snizz off with a pair of scissors because HEY WHY NOT. Then he chokes her out and Von Trier directs himself into a corner and fights his way out with indignant “you don’t get it because I’m a film auteur” veracity. At this point, pardonne fucking moi monsewer for the spoilers but the movie kicks off with a close-up of Willem Dafoe’s creepy breakfast sausage wanghang pounding it good to Les Miserable and we all know that’s what you came for so stop fronting. Which brings us to tonight’s selection: Melancholia. At the end of Antichrist, I realized Lars Von Trier considers himself a daring director defying the critics by bringing his nuanced and multilayered subversive worldview to celluloid in order to flaunt our apparent hypocrisies and antiquated conventions in our entitled faces to challenge our entrenched perceptions. Which is why I decided to get a bunch of drinks in me and do a running commentary of his Kirsten Dunst Meteor Movie. I think I’m ready to go because I feel like I have to piss every five minutes and was making the jerkoff motion in one hand while typing “celluloid” in the other. Anyhoo, enjoy. And as always, apologies in advance for this text post as well as tits for your time:

Once upon a time back when I would barrel into IRC and talk crazy for lack of a better thing to do, I did a running commentary on a Lars Von Trier film called Antichrist. If you haven’t seen it, it’s a lighthearted family friendly romp about Bobby Peru and the other french chick they got instead of Amelie doing a weekend woods retreat to the shittiest summer rental cabin ever to cope with the death of their 4 year old son who jumped out of a window dusted to his gills on PCP. It doesn’t go well. Green Goblin gets the direct to DVD Hostel 3 treatment by “How You Say, What’s Her Name“. She jerks him off until he spoots blood and then cuts her snizz off with a pair of scissors because HEY WHY NOT. Then he chokes her out and Von Trier directs himself into a corner and fights his way out with indignant “you don’t get it because I’m a film auteur” veracity. At this point, pardonne fucking moi monsewer for the spoilers but the movie kicks off with a close-up of Willem Dafoe’s creepy breakfast sausage wanghang pounding it good to Les Miserable and we all know that’s what you came for so stop fronting. Which brings us to tonight’s selection: Melancholia. At the end of Antichrist, I realized Lars Von Trier considers himself a daring director defying the critics by bringing his nuanced and multilayered subversive worldview to celluloid in order to flaunt our apparent hypocrisies and antiquated conventions in our entitled faces to challenge our entrenched perceptions. Which is why I decided to get a bunch of drinks in me and do a running commentary of his Kirsten Dunst Meteor Movie. I think I’m ready to go because I feel like I have to piss every five minutes and was making the jerkoff motion in one hand while typing “celluloid” in the other. Anyhoo, enjoy. And as always, apologies in advance for this text post as well as tits for your time:

UPDATE: I just cleared my cache and refreshed my browser and it appears I linked to a picture of Willem Dafoe and Mr. Bean, probably going over their pivotal scene in Speed 2: Cruise Control. That was on purpose. Go fuck yourself, picturefag.
0:00:16 Kirsten Dunst with her eyes closed, looking hurt and tired. I know how she feels. Oppressive violins, excessive slow motion long takes. I feel you, girlfriend. Less than a minute in and I’m as exhausted as you are. 
0:01:02 Nice sundial, Mary Jane. HEY WHAT TIME IS IT HOW THE FUCK DO I KNOW. I imagine someone reading SkyMall and folding over the corners of all the stuff they’re going to buy online when they get home. Glancing out their plane window, seeing that sundial and saying “Wow, what a douche”. Then licking his finger before turning the page. 
0:01:43 I’m going to pace myself. Just want to point out that Lars Von Trier is jizzy over slow motion long takes of shit falling or burning or whatever but most of the time nothing in particular happening. Settle in, I’ll check back in with you in 10.
0:07:07 Just checking in to see if you’re still with me. Slow motion whittling. I know. Don’t worry, I’M SURE THIS IS FORESHADOWING TO A VERY IMPORTANT PLOT POINT SOMEWHERE 
00:08:38 So Lars von Trier doesn’t believe in opening credits, must like he doesn’t believe in bathing more than twice a week (ooh, sick burn/thank you, I know). This is what we know of the story so far: it’s a planet, not a meteor (fuck off, deGrasse Tyson I know the difference and could give a cupped fart) and it’s ruining Kirsten Dunst’s wedding. The Cub Scouts Whittling Workshop is also cancelled on account of Apocalypse. Finally, no shot of Willem Dafoe’s weirdo 18 hour old 7-11 tacquito hanglow, but I’m holding out hope he’ll have a cameo as a stunt penis. Here’s hoping. Onto PART ONE: JUSTINE. Because Lars von Trier’s movies are so important they need to be broken up into parts which always equal one movie. So fucking important
00:12:22 Keifer Sutherland! My fervent hope is he brings two things to the table: his whispery Jack Bauer voice and Willem Dafoe’s unsettling freezer aisle egg roll stunt dick. Here’s hoping.
00:14:22 Guess How Many Beans Are in the Bottle Raffle? Was this wedding planned by the Lion’s Club?
00:16:10 A German character actor planned your wedding. Don’t be surprised. 

00:20:37 Good move, next choice when Helen Mirren said no. John Hurt was bombing like crazy up there. And he followed a German character accent failing to sound vaguely American whose wedding toast was advertising shop talk and somehow that went over kinda better. 
00:23:41 (PISS BREAK ONE) Decided to do a grand experiment a la von Trier style: I keep the movie running while I go piss and then note what I walk into. Then rewind back and see what I missed. HERE WE GO! What I walk in on: Kirsten Dunst looking at stars and shit, so not much I guess? What I missed: Kirsten Dunst squatting in her wedding dress to piss on a golf course. TWINSIES!!!!!!!! Fun fact: My Special Lady Friend is in the next room and declares that just from the oppressive strings soundtrack she posits that this movie is “super boring”. See, kids? Lars von Trier is such a daring filmmaker you only need to hear it to know what he’s all about! 
00:25:46 Hey, Udo Kier. Did you check the attic? HEYOOOO! Don’t act like Udo doesn’t walk in on that one on a daily basis

00:26:52 BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
00:28:06 These people are filthy rich right? Why would they hire a brass mariachi band for the wedding? I guess that’s the budget showing. Couldn’t get Helen Mirren. Couldn’t get someone that wasn’t German trying to sound like an American ad giant. Couldn’t get Holly Hunter, so they got her oddly younger yet more run down version with an accent that doesn’t match anyone. Most importantly, couldnt pay for Willem Dafoe’s wizened Jack Link to poke its head in for a minute. Yes, we’re not even at the half hour mark. Yes, I will continue to reference Willem Dafoe’s penis as extravangantly as possible. We’re watching a Lars von Trier movie together, mostly. You should be thanking me right now. 
00:29:01 OH SHIT WATCH OUT KID SHE’S GOING TO PUT YOUR SHOES ON BACKWARDS FOR MONTHS AND TURN YOU ONTO PCP (this is only funny if you saw Antichrist I guess) 
00:31:40 Everyone all tapping their watches all CAKE CUTTING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE at 11:30PM IT’S 11:45PM THIS WEDDING BETTER HURRY THE FUCK ALONG 
00:33:30 I know, Whispery Jack Bauer. Believe me, we’re all thinking the same thing. 

00:38:28 well hey, okay then 

00:47:38 oooh disaronno on the rocks, now it’s a party
00:48:52 (PISS BREAK NUMBER TWO) What I Walk in on: people signing tablecloths like an eyetie chain restaurants where they use butcher paper for tablecloth so your kids can color on them instead of crawling under the table like fucking animals ARE THESE PEOPLE SO SUPER RICH THEY GO SLUMMING AT THEIR OWN EVENTS What I missed : long take of everyone walking while keifer sets up a telescope giving me the impression that if I ever went to the movies with a UTI then I should jump on a von Trier joint so I won’t feel like I miss much with constant bathroom trips 

00:50:58 pretty sure someone drew dick butt on the side of that paper lantern 

00:52:00 Are they throwing the bouquet at 1 am? No wonder everyone’s acting all shitty about this wedding.
00:53:00 and there goes the cyanide capsule 

00:54:30 wedding night cockblock 

00:56:12 kirsten dunst going for her cpr certification on the guy they got because jonny lee miller is too old (and he said no) 

00:58:28 so glad I dont need a Piss Break Three because no way am i missing the pivotal Onion Soup Scene
01:03:40 Dude. DUDE. Way too fucking soon. 

01:04:54 Udo Kier is way, WAY too invested in the wedding door prize. My guess is this is the lead-up to a deleted scene where the winner gets a signed autograph of Willem Dafoe’s Knights of Columbus Annual Breakfast Sausage. Trier cut it since he thought it would detract from the SO FAR UTTERLY COMPELLING NARRATIVE.
01:07:47 I can’t remember if there was bridgephobia in Antichrist but I’m pretty sure there was (there totally was -ed./me). So we’re past the 1 hour mark and still no sign of the doomsday planet about to skidoosh with Earth. At this point I’m looking forward to it. Much like the bassoon player in the musical score looks forward to the next Lars von Trier movie. 

01:08:57 Ooh, Part 2. This is where the story maybe but probably doesn’t pick up. I’m on the edge of my seat. Now I’m lifting one cheek. Nnf. There were go. Hang on, cracking a window. 

01:15:00 dunstboob 

01:20:50 Remember kids, take it from jack bauer: when a rogue planet is expected to pass dangerously close to earth, you’re going to want to stock up on four (4) cans of gasoline and one (1) propane tank because HEY WHY NOT (you’re set on blueberry preserves, so that’s one less thing to worry about) 

01:22:40 Some day I plan to meet Lars von Trier, get him shitfaced, and ask him what the deal is between him and little wooden countryside bridges. And with great hesitance and an outpouring of emotion, he’ll tell me why. And halfway through it I’m going to shush him down and say “At-tut-tut-tut-tut! No one fucking cares, Lars.”
01:26:49 dunstboobs and just a hint of dunstbeav
01:27:43 bitch be jelly 

01:30:00 Did you mean spaceghetto.st? ha ha ha, oh me 

01:33:30 “What’s your home address? Okay, here’s your Generic Murder Pills Mrs. 30 Miles of Rough Road Holly Hunter. Thank you for choosing Walgreens, and be well!” 

01:36:44 For the record, Fredo was smart. Fredo knew things. 40 MINUTES TO GO ON THIS SNOOZEFEST AND OBVIOUSLY I’D RATHER BE WATCHING THE GODFATHER PART II. 

01:36:46 OR EVEN PART III. 

01:42:40 wait a minute I call bullshit that’s a fucking bubble wand wake that bullshit huckster kid up and boo him, BOOOOOOOOOOOOO 

01:51:45 Now I want to tell you up front: this is a Lars von Triers movie. The pills were a red herring, which is why you inexplicably found him dead in the stables. That liquid shit on his mouth isn’t vomit. It’s horse jizz. Jack Bauer drank horse jizz until he had a small bowel perforation. We still haven’t found the kid yet, so hold on. Shit’s about get EDGY. 

01:51:47 (PISS BREAK 3): We’re in the final stretch, so perfect time to skip the dragging psuedo-tension in favor of getting a C- on avoiding sprinkling the toilet rim. What I Walk In On: Breakfast and whispering, surprise surprise! What I missed: Haggard Holly Hunter covers Jack Bauer with a bunch of hay, spanks a horse, and makes breakfast on a hot plate. Right now I empathize with the horse. I wish I could run away and never look back.

01:54:22 As the rogue planet draws ever closer, a horrible realization creeps into the desperate mind: I should have been calling this Mumblecholia the entire time, right? Right? I know, right? 

01:57:14 told you about small wooden countryside bridges, bro 

02:01:32 Fuckin sisters, man. Countdown to extinction of all life on Earth and they’re still being shitty because THEY’RE STILL MAD AT YOU. I guarantee the entire undercurrent of this conversation has to do with a Facebook fight they had 11 months ago. 

02:04:58 Hey, remember when they alluded to this in the opening sl-mo montage? No? That’s okay. 

02:05:43 hey that’s not a cave that’s a teepee frame I don’t give a shit if you counted the bean jar right kirsten dunst you don’t know shit about anything 

02:07:03 I’m on team CharRamp on this one. K-Dunst’s idea is the one that’s a piece of shit. If I was that kid and I had a choice? I’d take a big fat passeroo on the unfinished teepee idea and go with a glass of wine on the balcony. I’m what, 6? 7? Half a chardonnay and the end of the world, I might take up breastfeeding again. I got four pasty titties to choose from and hey, not like there’ll be anyone around left to judge me. Sloppy Writing Alert: You know what’s missing from this picture? “Hey, mom and aunt with the AD&D last name? Anyone seen dad for the past couple hours that just seem to drag on for-fucking-ever? You’d think that’d come up presently. He’s kind of hard to miss. He’s my dad, looks just like Keifer Sutherland? No? Well, maybe he had to go away on a busi-

02:08:05 YAAYYYYYYYYY! Fucking finally


So what did we learn today? 1. Never start a wedding in mid-evening because over half the people your parents paying an arm and a leg to attend expect to be in bed with 9pm and they will make you suffer for fucking with their circadian rhythm. 2. Baths: a sure sign of mental illness. 3. Keifer Sutherland and Kirsten Dunst are terrible Apocalypse Party Planners, respectively. 4. Small wooden countryside bridges are not to be trusted. 5. How many Skarsgards are there in Hollywood? Answer: 678. 6. The most important thing I learned was the value of a Willem Dafoe dingdong. Antichrist is twice as pretensious as Melancholia, but nowhere as dull. Lars von Trier would do well to snake that spindly fucklog into at least a frame or two of all his movies. Lord knows he’s not doing us any more favors with these 2-3 hour overwrought snorefests. Thank you for watching Melanchoia with me. If you did actually rent, download, or stream Melancholia so you can match up my commentary to the actual movie, I understand you want me to go fuck myself. You go fuck yourself too, buddy. At the end of the day, what matters is that we’re fucking ourselves together.
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