``Breaking the Waves'' is emotionally and spiritually challenging,
hammering at conventional morality with the belief that God not only sees
all, but understands a great deal more than we give Him credit for. It
tells the story of Bess, a simple woman of childlike naivete, who
sacrifices herself to sexual brutality to save the life of the man she
loves. Is she a sinner? The grim bearded elders of her church think so.
But Bess is the kind of person Jesus was thinking of, I believe, when he
suffered the little children to come unto him.
The movie takes place in the 1970s, in a remote northern Scottish
village. Bess (Emily Watson), a sweet-faced and trusting girl, is ``not
quite right in the head,'' and her close-knit community is not pleased by
her decision to marry Jan (Stellan Skarsgard), who works on one of the big
oil rigs in the North Sea. But she loves Jan to much that when the
helicopter bringing him to the wedding is delayed, she hits him in a fury.
He is a tall, gentle man with a warm smile, and lets her flail away before
embracing her in his big arms.
She is a virgin, but so eager to learn the secrets of marriage that she
accosts her new husband in the powder room at the reception after the
ceremony, telling him eagerly, ``You can love me now!''
And then, ``What do I do?'' The miracle of sexual expression transforms
her, and she is grateful to God for having given her Jan and his love and
his body.
Meanwhile, downstairs at the ceremony, Jan's shipmate and Bess'
grandfather scowl at one another; the shipmate crushes a beer can, and the
grandfather picks up a lemonade glass and breaks it in his bloody hand.
We learn a little about Bess, who had a breakdown when her brother
died. Her closest friend is her sister-in-law, Dodo (Katrin Cartlidge), a
nurse who stays in the remote district mostly because of her. Bess belongs
to a strict sect where women do not speak in church, and the sermon over
the body at a funeral might be, ``You are a sinner and will find your
place in hell.'' Bess' grandfather observes sourly, ``We have no bells in
our church.''
Jan is critically injured in an accident on the rig. He is paralyzed
from the neck down, and the local doctor tells Bess he may never walk
again. ``You don't know Jan!'' she says fiercely. One day Jan asks her to
find a man and make love to him, ``for my sake. And then tell me about
it.'' Bess does not like this idea, but she does what Jan asks. Dodo is
enraged: ``Are you sleeping with other men to feed his sick fantasies? His
head's full of scars--he's up to his eyeballs in drugs.''
It is indeed never made quite clear why Jan, a good man, has made this
request of the woman he loves. That is not the point. The point is that
Bess, with her fierce faith, believes that somehow her sacrifice can
redeem her husband and even cure him. As his condition grows worse, her
behavior grows more desperate; she has herself taken out to a big ship
where even the port prostitutes refuse to go, because of the way they have
been treated there.
The film contains many surprising revelations, including a cosmic one
at the end, which I will leave you to discover for yourself. It has the
kind of raw power, the kind of unshielded regard for the force of good and
evil in the world, that we want to shy away from. It is easier sometimes
to wrap ourselves in sentiment and pious platitudes, and forget that God
created nature ``bloody in tooth and nail.'' Bess does not have our
ability to rationalize and evade, and fearlessly offers herself to God as
she understands him.
This performance by Emily Watson reminds me of what Truffaut said about
James Dean, that as an actor he was more like an animal than a man,
proceeding according to instinct instead of thought and calculation. It is
not a grim performance and is often touched by humor and delight, which
makes it all the more touching, as when Bess talks out loud in two-way
conversations with God, speaking both voices--making God a stern adult and
herself a trusting child. Her church banishes her, and little boys in the
village throw stones at her, but she tells Dodo, ``God gives everyone
something to be good at. I've always been stupid, but I'm good at this.''
``Breaking the Waves'' was written and directed by Lars von Trier, from
Denmark, who makes us wonder what kinds of operas Nietzsche might have
written. He finds the straight pure line through the heart of a story, and
is not concerned with what cannot be known: This movie does not explain
Jan's cruel request of his wife, because Bess does not question it. It
shows people who care about her, such as the sister-in-law and the local
doctor, and others who do not: religious bean-counters like the bearded
church elders. They understand nothing about their Christianity except for
unyielding rules they have memorized, which means they do not understand
Christianity at all. They talk to God as if they expect him to listen, and
learn. At the end of the film they get their response in a great savage
ironic peal.
Not many movies like this get made, because not many filmmakers are so
bold, angry and defiant. Like many truly spiritual films, it will offend
the Pharisees. Here we have a story that forces us to take sides, to ask
what really is right and wrong in a universe that seems harsh and
indifferent. Is religious belief only a consolation for our inescapable
destination in the grave? Or can faith give the power to triumph over
death and evil? Bess knows.
From CHICAGO
SUN-TIMES
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