Regie:
Lars von TrierDrehbuch:
Lars von TrierKamera:
Manuel Alberto ClaroBesetzung:
Charlotte Gainsbourg, Stellan Skarsgård, Shia LaBeouf, Stacy Martin, Jamie Bell, Connie Nielsen, Mia Goth, Sophie Kennedy Clark, Christian Slater (mehr)Streaming (4)
Inhalte(1)
An einem kalten Winterabend findet der charmante, ältere Junggeselle Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard) eine halb bewusstlose, zusammengeschlagene Frau namens Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) in einer dreckigen Seitenstraße. Er nimmt sich ihrer an, bringt sie zu sich nach Hause und pflegt die Schwerverletzte. Als diese irgendwann wieder zu sich kommt und Joe ihre Wunden behandelt, fragt er sie was geschehen ist. Joe fängt an, Seligman ihre Lebensgeschichte zu erzählen, ohne jegliche Scheu vor dem fremden Mann zu haben. Eingeteilt in acht Kapitel erzählt sie ihren Werdegang von der Geburt bis zu ihrem fünfzigsten Lebensjahr. Die eigene Lebensdiagnose als Nymphomanin ist geprägt von mannigfaltigen Facetten und erotischen Erlebnissen. Die mit Anekdoten gespickten Geschichten zeugen von ihren tief verborgenen Emotionen und Bedürfnissen... (Concorde Filmverleih)
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Hoch lebe Trier, dass er sich traute, so ein unbequemes Thema zu verfilmen, das jeden interessiert, aber nur wenige den Mut dazu hätten. Man sollte froh sein, dass es von einem Autor mit so einer Drehbuch- und Filmemacher-Grazie aufgegriffen wurde. Bei wem sonst würden in so einem expliziten Film, dessen bereits bearbeitete Kinoversion Hardcore-Aufnahmen enthält, Hollywood-Stars spielen? Vielleicht bei Haneke. Die Dialoge, das Leiten der Schauspieler*innen, die Stimmung – das alles funktioniert hier perfekt. Nymph()maniac 1 ist ein Film für erwachsene Zuschauer*innen, aber nicht wegen seiner Nacktheit. Je mehr man über Sex weiß und je mehr Erfahrungen und Erlebnisse man hat, desto mehr verseht man von ihm. Es ist ein psychologisch forschendes Werk, ernst und traurig, aber mit Witz und durch metaphorische Vergleiche erzählt. Die Definition der Polyfonie ist der Kern des Films und das Rammstein-Déjà-vu von Lynchs Lost Highway sein Gewürz. Ich bin auf den zweiten Teil gespannt und noch mehr auf die Full-Version, die bei mir schon jetzt einen Platz im Regal der wichtigen Filme hat.
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Unterbrochene Onanie. Grundsätzlich gibt es zwei Möglichkeiten, diese Metapher zu interpretieren 1. Entreißen aus einer tiefen Faszination beim Verfolgen eines flüchtigen Dialogs eines alternden kulturaffinen Mannes (Seligman) und einer impulsiven, animalischen Frau (Joe), die ihm die sexuelle Heranreifung unter Hervorhebung des Alltäglichem beschreibt, wohin er die Details voller Vaginalsekrete in Netzwerke aus Parallelen, Archetypen oder Verbindungen zur klassischen Kunst platziert. 2. Unterbrechung der selbstgenießerischen Regieführung von Lars von Triers. Der dritte Sünder dieser bizarren psychoanalytischen Sitzung ist zweifelsohne der dänische Enfant Terrible, welcher dem Betrachter nur allzu klar die Bedeutungen und seine Regiemethode offenbart. Shia LaBeoufs Glied ist nicht der "expliziteste" Bestandteil der Nymphomaniac 1. Dies wäre nämlich die Art und Weise, wie Lars von Trier das aufreizende Thema konsequent zum ewigen Bildungsroman-Genre werden lässt, welches nach dem Muster alter Texte am Anfang verrät, worüber das nächsten Kapitel handeln wird, was der Betrachter darin lernen wird und welche Absicht der Erzähler damit verfolgt. Ist dies eine Marotte? Mit Sicherheit. Funktionierts auch? Nicht immer Weil es eben keinen Sinn macht, Fragmente zu bewerten, derer sich Trier im Verlauf der gesamten Erzählung auf geniale Weise bedient. Ich bleibe allerdings dabei, dass dies eine Art öffentliche Selbstbefriedigung ist, die keinen Exzess meidet, jedoch zeitgleich gemessen an den Verhältnissen dieses Dänen vielleicht auch überraschend zahm und kultiviert wirkt und meine konzentrierte Aufmerksamkeit für die nächsten zwei Stunden sicherlich für sich gewonnen hat.
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Eine schöne ironische Komödie aus dem Leben. Keine Kontroverse, keine unglaubwürdige Erfindung, einfach das Leben, wie es ist. Dieser Film gefällt mir mit jeder Wiederholung besser. Ein absolut unwiderstehlicher Zuschauer könnte kein anderer als Stellan Skarsgård sein, die junge Stacy Martin ist in jeder Einstellung sexy, ich verneige mich vor Christian Slater, aber die absolut epischste Leistung ist die von Uma Thurman, die eine völlig absurdes Theater in dieses Setting bringt. Die Regisseursversion behält in jedem Kapitel den gleichen dramatischen Bogen bei, nur die Erotik ist logischerweise expliziter und damit glaubwürdiger. Und dennoch bleibt das Delirium die stärkste Erfahrung, das einzige Kapitel ohne ein großes sexuelles Motiv.
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For the moment, some indecision about the latest “controversial” prank by Lars. The individual stylistically different chapters are effective, from the depressive Delirium to the almost grotesque (and the most fun) Ms H., with Uma Thurman. But what really annoyed me was the binding conversation between Gainsbourg and Skarsgård, it feels as if they’re talking at cross purposes all the time. It’s drowning in shallow allegories and metaphors, which Trier shows way too literally on top of that. Some of those allegories are so stupid that I have no choice but to consider them as intentional mockery of the philosophers and intellectuals who love to connect the unconnectable, find meaning where there is none, and find profound truths in the likening of a sexual train trip to fishing. Here they don’t need to look for anything because Trier has found it for them, and everything is so explicitly shown, from the fish in the river to the graphic representation of the golden ratio. I believe that he is now laughing and singing something along those lines. If I’m wrong, he’s gone mad. Let’s see what Volume 2 brings.
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Trier listened to talk about how brilliant he was for so long that he finally believed it and tried to create the most complex film of all time. In it, he has it out with everyone and comments on absolutely everything, thereby serving up an incredible load of motifs, images, metaphors, and subliminal messages that is, at its core, cheaper than paid sex for one time... (Volume 2)
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Lars von Trier once again made me think. Not only did he make a unique biographical film, but he also crossed the boundaries with an excellent camera and a special way of narration, to which he is actually no stranger. What’s worse is the fact that he divided the story of a nymphomaniac into two long two-hour films, which have no fundamental point at all for the viewer to focus on. We just see Charlotte Gainsbourg lying on the street, beaten within an inch of her life. Stellan Skarsgård takes her under his wings, wishing to hear her story. Why was she lying beaten on the street? So Charlotte starts telling her story. Chapter 1 – a discovery that I have a pussy. Chapter 2 – a discovery how to use my pussy. And then a story starts to unfold about the nymphomaniac using others, not caring what it does to them. At the same time she starts to meet people who are even more twisted than she is. At times it’s absurd, at times it’s fun, a few shots came straight from a porn flick, but as a whole it did absolutely nothing to me. Anyhow I started watching the second part right away, because I was hoping that the story would get at least a bit depraved…
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Lars von Trier is the art-house equivalent of the celebrated trickster William Castle, whose films were always only a fraction of the overall experience without the additional attractions and means of promotion prepared by the master. Von Trier has elevated the contemporary trend of massaging the media long before a film is released to a concept in and of itself, and has raised marketing and PR to the level of art. He took those originally utilitarian tools and made them part of the overall work, where the film is not the objective, but rather the culmination of a single grand performance – in this case, it is a culmination that has been greatly delayed, as Nymph()maniac is divided into two parts and released with a title informing viewers that they will see only the censored and abridged version of the fabled director’s cut. Von Trier and his collaborators are simply masters of packaging and promotion (which is brilliantly evident in the trailer for the second part, which first appears in the closing credits of Volume I and raises grand promises, which of course remain unfulfilled). At the core of von Trier’s work like ambivalence between the cult of the auteur that he has built around himself over the years, as well as the highlighting of the manipulativeness and falsity of art and artists. The director’s latest piece looks like a frank treatise on human sexuality, which clearly is supposed to go against the grain of bourgeois notions of normalcy, but at the same time, it comes across merely as a calculated act, a way to profit magnificently from the age-old adage “sex sells” in today’s ridiculously strait-laced world. Nymph()maniac itself is surprising as a film hypertext, simply a sort of nymphomaniac.wiki, that doesn’t give viewers only text to analyse and interpret, but directly gives them all interpretations and references with citations. The lofty phrase that there is nothing to add to a film because it already has everything is absolutely entirely true this time. It’s as if the aim was to make a film about which there is nothing more to say than the primitive “I liked it/I didn’t like it" (if you don’t want to quote what was said in the film or draw attention to the obvious). So, let’s say that Nymph()maniac is mostly entertaining (particularly in its minor details, such as the brilliant birth sequence), but it’s more often rather overly clever, as it constantly refers to and adores its own narrative. The fourth wall doesn’t get broken here, but is actually set up behind the viewers (just as in the case of browsing the internet, especially social media, where perceptions from individual links and threads immediately disappear in the next text). As a result, the film’s main positive aspect remains the fact that, even though sex has the role of a commodity and an attraction in the project and in the promotion of Nymph()maniac, the narrative doesn’t approach sexuality in an exploitative way, but rather with fondness and empathy, particularly with respect to its potentially more shocking forms presented in the second part. Generally speaking, however, it is absurd, albeit apt, that the labels “provocateur” and “enfant terrible” have been assigned to a filmmaker who, at least in his last two films, hasn’t done anything but simply show themes such as sex, family and relationships in a more sincere, or more cynical, form in comparison with the sentimentality of mainstream and festival midcult films.
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Not completely... but still very promising. Humorous and dark stories from life are sometimes shocking, as some comparisons can be. Von Trier by the way explains the secret of good fly fishing. Maybe it’s due to heavy producer’s cutting, but Nymph()maniac doesn’t (yet) seem like an over the top erotic movie, but a study of female sexuality presented in a fresh and entertaining way. The audience at the movie theater laughed at the right places (situations that are funny if they aren’t happening to you) and jumped in shock several times, but during the nympho scenes, nobody was offended, on the other hand they probably weren’t disappointed, either. The acting can’t be faulted at all. A top-notch cast dominated surprisingly by the young Stacy Martin (who looks exactly like a classmate from college) rather than by Charlotte Gainsbourg, but it’ll probably be the other way round in part two. In the supporting roles, Uma Thurman draws attention with her flawless creation of a perfect wife and Christian Slater in the role of the kind daddy. So far intriguing and it looks like it’s going to get even more so. Zwei Bilder nur ein Rahmen... Ein Körper doch zwei Namen... Zwei Dochte eine Kerze... Zwei Seelen in einem Herzen...
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This is exactly how it looks when someone says that girls deal with bullshit. Lars Von Trier captured it very well, so basically it's a film about nothing. It has lots of references and metaphors, but in essence, it doesn't actually say anything. So, the best film about sex remains Eyes Wide Shut, which does say something.
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I don't know what I was expecting, whether something more controversial, more interesting, or simply something that would give a person more. The topic interests me quite a bit, but I much preferred the way Steve McQueen captured it in Shame. Lars von Trier has been showing off basically since the first shot, trying to be artistic, but somehow it's all the same and in his films, it's been that way already. Moreover, from this author, I expected something grittier. There are shots you won't see in a normal movie, but nothing too surprising. The second part promises more, so we'll see.
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Nymphomaniac had something that no Trier film has had before, and that was a very long and extensive advertising campaign. Who knows if we would have ever awaited this opus if Lars hadn't announced at that famous Cannes press conference that his next film would be several hours of porn. I still remember that press conference vividly, because Trier's "Final Solution with Journalists" is truly unforgettable. As for the film itself, Nymphomaniac follows in the tradition of Trier's last two films, but it should be noted that, unlike Melancholia and Antichrist, the opening is not as heavily stylized in terms of imagery, which of course is then richly compensated for by a visual playfulness almost unusual for Trier (not that Lars isn't otherwise visually creative, but in places here he's really "JUST" playing around). One can't help but notice that in terms of visual "disjointedness" this is actually Trier's calmest film (then again, handheld camerawork of course has a firm place here; after all, it's still Trier...). Rather, I meant to suggest (or maybe Trier meant to suggest) that this is the final part of The Depression Trilogy, which may even symbolize an attempt at a more restrained ending, as matched by the intensity of the use of the handheld camera (I sat in the second row at the premiere of Melancholia, and after 10 minutes I had a bad headache from the constant bouncing of the camera). Otherwise, it's a wonder that such a controversial subject with a very controversial campaign actually resulted in one of the least scandalous and controversial films in Trier's entire filmography. I'm becoming convinced that Lars von Trier is not "just" a brilliant filmmaker/manipulator, but also a man with incredible marketing acumen, and last but not least (lately) a successful businessman. I wish him the best with that, since he’s still true to his style and his auteur imprint remains very strong.
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