Movie review by Greg Carlson
The U.S. on-demand and theatrical release of the second volume of Lars von Trier’s “Nymphomaniac” picks up the confessional discourse between Joe (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and Seligman (Stellan Skarsgard) following the former’s rescue by the latter from a nearby alley. The second installment retains the episodic structure of the first while revealing critical information about the conversationalists that leads to a conclusion typical of von Trier’s longstanding curiosity about gender disparity. In several ways, “Vol. II” intensifies the black comedy and the melodrama introduced in the previous section, leading one to wonder how the longer, more explicit and expansive cut of the film would unfold as a viewing experience.
The most disquieting disclosure in “Vol. II” belongs not to the seemingly limitless Joe, but rather to Seligman, who divulges news that reframes his relationship to Joe and infuses the film with a previously absent urgency: Seligman admits that he is asexual and a virgin. The startling news serves the narrative as a dramatic turning point and also sets up the climax. Now, more than ever, “Nymphomaniac” mirrors “One Thousand and One Nights.” Seligman’s interest in Joe ceases to be strictly academic, and the tension accompanying his admission aligns him with the dangerous and capricious misogyny of Shahryar. Joe plays Scheherazade to Seligman’s Shahryar, and while her tales are represented by a chiliad of often anonymous sexual partners, the measure of her self-knowledge parallels the keenness of the legendary Persian queen.
“Vol. II” contains the final three chapters of the story, and among the most absorbing and challenging of the entire “Nymphomaniac” octet is “The Eastern and the Western Church (The Silent Duck),” a consideration of sadomasochism featuring Jamie Bell as K, a meticulous inflictor of lacerating punishment on willing subjects. A number of critics, including Richard Brody and Ben Brock, have suggested that the scenes with K are directed with an energy and style distinct from the remainder of the film’s contents. These assertions are attributable in part to von Trier’s investment in K as a character. A strong argument could be made that the filmmaker treats Uma Thurman’s Mrs. H in “Vol. I” in a similar way, although a handful of other performers, including Willem Dafoe and Mia Goth, manage to work around some of the deliberately mannered dialogue.
Von Trier happily acknowledges the unlikely coincidences that fuel so much literature, inserting several meta-comments in the framing scenes between Joe and Seligman, whose name may be a reference to the psychologist who developed the theory of learned helplessness. The filmmaker expands his palette of asides, introducing references to the Prusik knot (which Joe thinks is one of Seligman’s weakest digressions), Empress Messalina and the Whore of Babylon, the Stations of the Cross, and the full-circle return of the Fibonacci sequence in correlation to pelvic thrusts. The prominence of these detours and deflections shifts them from subordination to a status of priority and reinforces the notion that von Trier is an artist for whom the Verfremdungseffekt is a critical storytelling objective.
Prior to pulling the trigger of Chekhov’s gun, von Trier gives Seligman a speech in which he marvels at the double standards society has established for women. Seligman notes that men get a pass if they abandon or neglect their family responsibilities, but if women do it, the consequences are dire. Joe, whose behavior at one point imperils her son in an echo of the opening scene of “Antichrist,” describes herself as a bad person, but it seems clear that von Trier does not agree. Like Bess McNeill, Selma Jezkova, and Grace Margaret Mulligan, Joe may be added to the list of complicated sufferers so close to von Trier’s heart. “Nymphomaniac” may not be as initially satisfying or as emotionally devastating as “Breaking the Waves,” “Dancer in the Dark,” or “Dogville,” but it affirms its creator as a formidable cinematic talent with much left to say.