Review of The House That Jack Built (2018) by Nightreviews — 22 Dec 2018

My relationship with Lars von Trier can be described best in one word; boundless. Luckily for myself, although my relationship only began a few days ago with this passionate and highly cynical director, I’m sure glad that a relationship flourished at all. While his name had been mentioned to me in passing countless times, I never really sat down and truly experienced a von Trier film, that is, until I watched The House That Jack Built. Yet, not like most, I experienced von Trier on a different level most people would, attending a very exclusive and rare unrated director’s cut of Jack. To say the least, it is with all honesty and truth, I can say that it wasn’t until I watched this film that I truly understood how far the boundaries of cinema can be pushed.

Typical discussions regarding von Trier’s work usually touch mostly upon the controversies surrounding his films, as well as his unprecedented style, and his penchant for making viewers feel so uncomfortable that their only natural reaction is to walk out of their theatre seat, or turn off the film altogether. While von Trier’s career is ladened with controversy, including a “persona non grata” at Cannes, that was lifted this year for The House That Jack Built, as well as controversy for basically each one of his film’s release since the beginning of his Depression Trilogy, starting with AntiChrist, von Trier seems to be the poster child for auteurs with a warning sticker attached to them.

While very few directors can truly call themselves truly provocative filmmakers, and while it seems that von Trier spends more time debunking this notion that trying to prove himself otherwise, it isn’t hard to reign him as the clear champion of this title. Yet, aside from the controversy, von Tirer has a plethora of qualities that he brings to filmmaking and cinema all together. Always pushing the boundaries, von Trier likes to smear the lines drawn by rating boards and society alike, and Jack is a testament to the very boundaries set by such films and people. While his content is often disturbing and brutal, von Trier also has a sadistic way of implementing a stark sense of humour within the frames of his work. Yet knowing all of these from a true vanguard of cinema, nothing could prepare me for a work made a man hated but loved by many so many people inside and outside of the film industry, and whose work is often misunderstood yet a direct companion piece of the man that is Lars Trier (he added the von himself).

The House That Jack Built is quite elementary narratively speaking; the story follows Jack, an architect who has a severe case of OCD. Jack is played passionately by Matt Dillon, a role since The Outsider that many believed he was born to play, especially given his heavy encrusted facial expressions and naturally demonic and piercingly intimidating look. Yet, the more we get to know Jack, we realize he is a serial killer. Okay, maybe that’s a lie; we know right away and before anything that Jack is a serial killer before he is anything else. So in proper von Trier fashion, the film is presented using chapters, over the course of twelve years, and within those twelve years, we are introduced to Jack and five murders that have shaped the man he is and becomes by the end of the film.

Yet, as rudimentary the narrative of von Trier’s film is, it becomes clear quickly that nothing is square about this auteur and his films. Jack’s devilish narrative is a twisted odyssey into the depths of hell and a psychosis where guilt, empathy and compassion is voided. Yet, after these five incidents are displayed in bloody von Trier fashion, the journey of Jack’s path leads to Verge (Bruno Ganz), a ‘spiritual’ figure who appears and disappears throughout Jack’s life, proving truly von Trier’esque exposition; but keep in mind, von Trier exposition is quite different from Hollywood exposition. Presented in poetic and encrypted fashion, von Trier’s dialogue is nothing short of enigmatic. And while Ganz is a formidable and heavyweight actor, Ganz’s performance, no matter how insightful or mysterious it is, merely serves as a counterweight to the heavy hitting and aggressively spot-on performance given by Dillon. Jack is without question, Dillon best and quintessential role ever, and he will never be better in a film in his life.

While Ganz and Dillon provide the film with some its most analytical, contemplative and philosophical dialogue, speeding through words in a rhythmic yet glaringly sophisticated way, as if written in iambic tetrameter, von Trier’s dialogue still has an incomparable way of showing facets of the director and the many dark and disturbing pieces of himself, in a way that makes the film so personal and reflective.