Breaking the Waves (Emily Watson, Stellan Skarsgård) 1/2
Society uses the word "sacrifice" frequently in terms of wars, or worldly goods, or sundry other applications in life. What happens when the sacrifice goes unrecognized or does not register among those for whom the sacrifice is made? Is it still really a sacrifice if the target group doesn't believe it to be so? This may be the most difficult concept behind Lars von Trier's fascinating piece, Breaking the Waves; a film so challenging, I recently had difficulty watching it a second time.
The first time I watched it, I knew I was in for a treat -- the movie made over 200 critics' top lists at year end 1996 -- and I was indeed mesmerized. The second time I watched it, I knew what was going to happen every step of the way, and it was that much tougher to absorb. That discomfort comes from a misguided trust we begin to have that, somehow, things will turn out okay for the smalltown girl named Bess McNeill. Her optimistic spirit and strong support base will guide her through whatever waves wash upon her shores of life. Or will they?
Bess is played with groundbreaking realism by Emily Watson. Like all great film performances, we instantly pay sharp attention whenever Bess is present and Watson immerses herself 100 % into the psyche of the character. What joy it is to watch her facial expressions and know exactly what Bess is thinking. This is a confident piece of acting that relies not just on reactions to others, but acting upon one's own darkest emotional impulses and most complex methodologies.
The film begins with Bess's marriage to a man named Jan, who works on an offshore oil rig. They seem to love each other, but don't really know enough about each other yet. After their quaint smalltown wedding (replete with the stuffy town elders on Bess's side and Jan's drunken pals from the oil rig), the two explore the intimacies of sharing their lives together. Jan eventually resumes his job at sea, but when he prepares to leave, Bess succumbs to a psychotic outburst out of fear and co-dependence. A history of trauma is presumed at this point, but it is only after Jan is injured in an accident that we start to see the depths of Bess's instabilities. And this finally brings us up to the actual sacrifice itself, an inexplicable request from Jan in his critical state; he asks Bess to be with another man. And in her own delusional state, she believes that by fulfilling Jan's request, she will heal Jan's paralyzed body.
Films like Breaking the Waves demand to be heard and require active participation, or the end result is meaningless and the viewer's journey all for naught. What's interesting is the myriad of characters we can strongly identify with as we watch the seams in Bess's life beginning to unwind. We have all seen and known the chilling, disappointed look Bess's mother gives her every time her daughter enters the room (which sets up one of the more powerful scenes later on in the film when the stakes are high); we've all met someone like Bess's sister, who tries to look out for others for their own good but isn't very good at inconspicuously doing so; we've all known the hardened worker like Jan, who opens himself up at the most unexpected of moments, yet whose heart and mind can also become clouded when stress and trauma intervene.
I'm making the film sound analytical and preachy, but there are scenes of joy and entertainment too. In fact, the film is neatly divided into chapters with short panoramic clips that are set to 70's music. These reminded me of the different books of the Bible at some points, and also provided moments to absorb all of the scenes up to that point.
Breaking the Waves is deeply spiritual, in the sense that often one's faith is never fully perceived until it has been fully challenged. In the end, we have shared a brief amount of time with Bess and her stifling surroundings, and these images linger like waves lapping on a tumultuous, defiant shore.
