MOVIE REVIEW 'Dogville' scratches convention

The lack of sets and props works.
By MILAN PAURICH
VINDICATOR CORRESPONDENT
What a weird and wonderful place "Dogville" is! A tiny little Depression-era Rocky Mountain mining village, Dogville is also the title of director Lars ("Dancer in the Dark," "Breaking the Waves") von Trier's audacious, endlessly inventive three-hour meditation on the very concept of "America."
Since "Dogville" is also unremittingly bleak and scathing, some critics have accused von Trier of making an anti-American screed. How audiences respond to von Trier's rigorously stylized vision will pretty much depend upon which side of the fence they sit on politically (Rush Limbaugh fans will loathe it; Al Franken supporters will give it a standing ovation).
More than anything, "Dogville" resembles a star-studded production of "Our Town" if Thornton Wilder's warhorse had been written by Bertolt Brecht or Samuel Beckett. The "town" itself is merely a cavernous Danish soundstage in which various chalk outlines designate homes and various other parts of the community. We hear doors open and shut and even a barking dog, but never see them.
Enter Grace
The latest visitor to this topsy-turvy universe is Grace (Nicole Kidman, simply dazzling in a career-best performance), a beautiful and mysterious young woman seeking refuge from some menacing gangster types. With the help of Tom (Paul Bettany, Russell Crowe's imaginary roommate in "A Beautiful Mind"), Grace is gradually accepted by Dogville-ians. The fact that she's willing to perform the most menial tasks for poverty wages doesn't hurt. Soon, however, the good people of Dogville are cruelly turning against her, leading to an apocalyptic ending that's both shocking and wickedly funny.
Grace is clearly meant to symbolize the plight of many U.S. immigrants who are exploited by America's capitalist system. Although welcomed onto our shores with the promise of freedom and liberty, many -- like Grace -- wind up living an almost slave-like existence just to make ends meet. Well-meaning liberals like Tom ultimately prove to be as ineffectual as close-minded conservatives like Lauren Bacall's miserly shopkeeper. Some viewers might consider "Dogville" an equal-opportunity offender.
As an ardent supporter of von Trier's provocative fable since I first saw it at last fall's Toronto Film Festival, "Dogville"'s contentious politics seem less important than the supreme artistry with which it's made. Anthony Dod Mantle's extraordinary camerawork, much of it handheld, is remarkably, sensuously fluid.
Lack of props works
The hyper-stylization -- lack of props, sets, etc. -- that will drive some people batty is so pervasive and, yes, purposeful that I can't imagine the movie working any other way. Von Trier's stripped-down approach to cinema aesthetics makes it easier to appreciate the strong, subtle performances of his superb cast (Kidman, Bettany, Bacall, Patricia Clarkson, Ben Gazzara, Chloe Sevigny, James Caan, et al) which might have suffocated under the weight of conventional period "production values."
"Dogville" might not be for everyone, but adventurous moviegoers are sure to embrace it as a spit in the face of Hollywood's cookie-cutter mentality.
XWrite Milan Paurich at milanpaurich@aol.com.