In “Blow,” “Scarface” or any number of drug dealer movies, watching the rags-to-riches rise of their stars is a blast. The inevitable downfall? Significantly less so.
Trading mounds of cocaine for sex, Lars von Trier’s “Nymphomaniac: Vol. I” followed a similar upward trajectory, one of personal discovery that generally brought with it joy for viewers and for the protagonist and title character Joe (Stacy Martin).
Though not without a few uncomfortable moments, these exploits seem even more pleasant compared with the destined comedown to earth of “Vol. II,” in which the dark, cruel realities of the preceding pleasures rot due to an excess not too far removed from Tony Montana’s unchecked greed.
Having lost the ability to orgasm at the end of “Vol. I,” Joe and her now husband Jerôme (Shia LaBeouf) attempt to restore that crucial feeling through much trial and error. Eventually hitting a wall, Jerôme lovingly suggests that she sleep with other men to cure what ails her, an especially trying decision now that the two have a child.
But before she may begin, “Vol. II” suddenly and a bit awkwardly jumps ahead three years and Martin morphs into Charlotte Gainsbourg, suggesting that the birth of Joe’s son Marcel aged her or that becoming a mother made her a different woman entirely.
Though odd, the choice proves wise as the shift keeps Martin’s Joe separate and reasonably pure, reserving the more bleak action for Gainsbourg’s version.
The means this older Joe undertakes to regain her sexual identity, and therefore her sense of self, are as uncomfortable as the cuts and bruises on her face as she continues to relate her travails to Jude (Stellan Skarsgård).
Among her attempts are the isolation of intercourse with a language barrier and visits to a pain/violence fetishist played by Jamie Bell (Billy Elliot himself, all grown up), whose graphic masochism provides the film’s most difficult sequence.
Prioritizing these activities leads to poor maternal choices and significant consequences, eventually landing her in sex addiction treatment as another potential fix. It’s at this low point, however, where “Vol. II” exhibits a pronounced sense of humor, first through a giggly use of Mozart’s “Requiem” as Joe rids her home of objects that remind her of sex.
That’s soon followed by a similarly amusing bit with Talking Heads’ “Burning Down the House” accompanying her symbolic destruction of that group therapy mindset, making for a 1-2 punch of welcome (and somewhat brilliant) levity.
Beyond these light moments, though, “Vol. II” stays its murky course often to its detriment. Such is the meteoric nature of unsustainable human vice, but through von Trier’s honest, artistic lens, the subject is about as visually and intellectually engaging as it can be.
Grade: B. Not rated, but intended for adult audiences. Playing at the Carolina Asheville.
Article source: http://www.citizen-times.com/story/entertainment/movies/2014/04/10/movie-review-nymphomaniac-blends-downfall-humor/7575505/