I went to see this film on opening night with a friend of mine. I dig independent films and had heard that Bjork was amazing in her role, so I decided to check it out. My friend and I were excited on the way to the theater as we both harbor a minor crush on Bjork. We bought our tickets, found our seats, and sat back to enjoy the film with no idea what to expect.
When the movie ended I felt emotionally shattered. It was like someone had used a pile-driver on my insides; everything felt broken and pulverized into Pretzellogic-colored goo. We just sat there for a minute or two before remembering that one is expected to leave the theater after a movie ends. Dancer in the Dark is the most emotionally wrenching film I have ever seen. The second half of this movie would leave even the hardest movie critic blubbering into their popcorn.
I didn't actually cry, neither did my friend. We walked to the car in a sort of stunned quiet, to broken to speak. I finally broke the silence as we drove out of the city: "That was an incredible film. I don't ever want to see it again."
For the record it was an amazing film. There were moments of real beauty—most notably a musical scene on a train that was shot using over a hundred camera angles—and I enjoyed the film immensely, but there were scenes just too sad and too intense for me to ever want to watch again.
What amazing power this film has to affect like this. It still affects me, too. As I write this I can feel my insides going a big rubbery one.
Originally posted in the (since nuked) movies that make you want to cry alone in a dark room for hours.