Kirsten Dunst

Bring It On

Melancholia

It’s basically a New Year and at the time of writing this blog I have watched 102 movies this year, and 182 total. 😱 I’ve watched some unbelievably amazing films this year, and some that were appallingly bad. None of these movies were watched in vain, though, because they've all opened up my mind and given me a new perspective on the medium that I love so much. One thing I’ve noticed though is that there haven’t been enough double feature nights dedicated to phenomenal actresses. I’ve shined my small spotlight upon Gena Rowlands, Samara Weaving, Jessica Chastain, Amy Adams, and Judi Dench quite briefly last week, but one of my goals for 2022 is to explore more films that feature my favorite actresses. I’m really excited for the films I’m lining up for next year, but for now, I wanted to close 2021 on a good note and pay credit to one of the defining actresses of your and my childhood: Kirsten Dunst. And while both of these films showcased the wide range of her talents, I can’t say that either of them acted as particularly positive omens for the impending New Year, so in that sense they were the perfect films to close out 2021. Kirsten Dunst has only ever been in iconic, memorable, reliably unique movies: Kiki’s Delivery Service, Interview With a Vampire, Little Women, Jumanji, The Virgin Suicides, Drop Dead Gorgeous, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Marie Antoinette, The Beguiled, (the original) Spider-Man, Spider-man 2 and even Spider-man 3. Her resumé’s so solid and full of so many classics that I had no idea that she was even in Bring it On because I thought that this was Gabrielle Union’s movie—and upon finally watching this film I learned that I was correct. Kirsten was, of course, dedicated and likable and earnest in her performance, but other than the shockingly problematic sense of humor in this film, Gabrielle Union stole the show. Even for a movie made in the year 2000, the jokes were bad. A couple groaner lines are expected, right? But no, every joke was more tone deaf and offensive than the one before it. I took no issue with the low-stakes premise and dumb dialogue and the feeble attempt to develop these characters into anything beyond cheerleaders. My problem was that I was often only laughing out of astonished disbelief or involuntary cringe. The kind of cringe that somehow surpassed She’s All That or The Fast and the Furious. Was it dumb? Yes. Do I think admirers of this movie need to rewatch it to see how little it holds up? Yeah. Was it still a blast to watch? Of course! I never tired of the ridiculous cheering and shade-throwing and I never expected it to be anymore than it sold itself as. Kirsten Dunst charmingly leads this movie alongside Eliza Dushku and Gabrielle Union, and made it lovable and lucrative enough to spark at least five sequels, one musical, and a whole new appreciation for the sport of cheerleading. The whole time I was watching this film I wished that I was watching Drop Dead Gorgeous, and the entire time I watched Melancholia I wished that I was watching… anything else. Jk jk but a lot of Lars von Trier’s 2011 drama Melancholia had zero drama. I’m a fan of his 2013 film Nymphomaniac, but it is certainly on my list of movies that I loved that I never need to see again. He’s the kind of filmmaker that likes to cause chaos, confusion, and oftentimes, confrontations of things we care not to think about. He’s also gonna have beautiful landscapes and at least a little bit of nudity. Melancholia was a bleak, paranoid nightmare that was somehow both ambitious and lethargic in its execution. It falls into the Kirsten Dunst Depression cinematic universe, along with The Virgin Suicides and The Beguiled, and while the vibes here are somehow worse in Melancholia, the aesthetic was almost as impressive. The film takes place during the days before a rogue planet plummets toward earth, and follows Justine, a troubled and complicated woman just as she’s getting married, along with her sister Claire, who is equally troubled and complicated, as she deals with the aftermath of this wedding from hell. In classic von Trier fashion, this film is tense from beginning to end, between its clear depiction of depression and anxiety, and the other star of this movie: Melancholia herself, the planet seen plummeting toward Earth. And while Kirsten Dunst’s character Justine makes some very odd choices throughout the course of this movie, you can’t help but sigh along with her and embrace the end of the world. This film is not nearly as wild as Nymphomaniac but it had similarly lofty goals of capturing the complexity of the human spirit. If any of this was truly captured it was because of Kirsten Dunst’s melancholic magnetism, along with the performances from fellow vampire alumni Alexander Skarsgard, Udo Kier, Kiefer Sutherland and John Hurt—who all contributed to the deeply anxious vibes this movie is imbued in. The fucked up familial and social dynamics were interesting, but in my opinion, didn’t quite go for the jugular like I’m used to with von Trier. Melancholia unfortunately spends so much of its time creating a visual experience that it almost forgets to grow its narrative into anything beyond “depression personified”—which is a somewhat compelling premise, but not quite substantial enough for a whole-ass 2 hour and 15 minute movie. While Melancholia is decidedly less optimistic than Bring It On, I left both films feeling about the same level of “well okay then”. And that pretty much sums up my feelings towards 2021 as well. What a year it’s been, what a time I’ve had praising and talking shit about movies, and how grateful am I that you’ve maybe read even some of my rambling. Cheers to you, dear reader, cheers to the end of another bizarre year, cheers to 2022, and here’s hoping it’s better than 2021… or at least, full of more good movies. 🥂