Vows of Chastity

by Jeff Economy, April 29, 2009

Jean Cocteau famously decreed that "Film will only become art when its materials are as inexpensive as pencil and paper," and considering the enormous cost of equipment in Cocteau's era, the very notion was practically science fiction.  Now with the proliferation of cheap digital cameras and virtually free editing software, the day is upon us; but just like your parents told you, with freedom comes responsibility.

In 1995, Danish filmmakers Thomas Vinterberg and Lars von Trier co-founded the Dogme 95 movement and published their "Vow of Chastity," a 10-point manifesto laying down a rigorous set of rules designed to help a filmmaker "force the truth out of characters and settings."  By signing the agreement he or she swore "to do so by all the means available and at the cost of any good taste and any aesthetic considerations."

Though the Dogme 95 manifesto was nailed to Hollywood's door nearly 10 years ago, only 35 feature films carrying an official Certificate of Authenticity have been produced to date.  This probably says less about the difficulty of upholding the strenuous conditions than practical expediency, however; many of Dogme's rules, originally conceived as a reaction to overly polished filmmaking that buffs the edges off authentic behavior, are simply a matter of course for the modern-day low-budget digital filmmaker (Rule #1: Shooting must be done on location; Rule #3: The camera must be hand-held; Rule #4: Special lighting is not acceptable).

A spiritual inspiration for this somewhat mischievous document was the Danish filmmaker and teacher Jørgen Leth, who von Trier credits as having introduced him to "the rules of the game."  From that spirit of sportsmanship came the genesis of The Five Obstructions, a collaboration between the two filmmakers opening this month at Upstate Films in Rhinebeck.  The plot, as it were, is diabolically simple: Leth must remake his 1967 short The Perfect Human using a strict set of limitations (or "obstructions") designed by von Trier to trip up Leth creatively where he's most vulnerable.  And not just once, but five times total, with each new set of obstructions based on how the previous version is executed.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

The game begins with a wicked twinkle in von Trier's eye as he quickly picks challenges based on clues gleaned from Leth's objections.  The first obstruction is comprised of four hurdles, including the near-sadistic dictum that no shot shall last more than twelve frames, a seemingly insurmountable problem that Leth appears to grapple with for months.  But in the end, the obstacle is conquered with such grace that von Trier's nonplussed admission of defeat only burnishes Leth's confidence.  It's reminiscent of the story about Allen Ginsberg giving Thelonious Monk some psilocybin mushrooms.  When Ginsberg returned a few days later to check on him, fully expecting the musician's mind to be well and truly blown, Monk peered out through a crack in the door and simply said, "Got anything stronger?"

It's debatable whether Von Trier ever recovers from the first round of TKO, and his increasingly petulant attempts to crack Leth's veneer of intellectualized stoicism become more punitive than penetrating.  In his attempt to unmask the opaque Leth, von Trier's own nature is thrust back upon him in a sort of psychological judo.  We see shades of the same disciplinarian sensibility that infused von Trier's "Golden Heart" triptych (Breaking The Waves, The Idiots and Dancer In The Dark), and after that trilogy of emotional terror one can be forgiven for feeling that he's getting a taste of his own medicine.