Part of The Genius and Misanthropy of Lars von Trier (Dir. #7)

Review by Brendan Peterson: Lars von Trier’s first full-length feature showcases a talented artist in search of a style. For a filmmaker who ultimately came to focus on the intimate emotional details of human interaction (and misery), 1984’s “The Element of Crime” is a surprisingly chilly and technical film. Stylized from beginning to end, the action is shot with a sepia toned color palette and includes superimposed images, flashbacks inside of flashbacks, oddball framing choices and every other technical trick the young filmmaker could think up with a limited budget. The story, which was co-written by von Trier, follows the adventures of police inspector Fisher (Michael Elphick), who, after many years away, returns to a decayed, futuristic Europe to investigate a series of grisly murders. The killer is leaving the mutilated bodies of victims in a pattern across the countryside and Fisher must use the methods of his mentor, Osborne (Esmond Knight)—as outlined in his book, “The Element of Crime”—to crack the case. Osborne’s big idea is that a detective should put himself in the psychological shoes of the killer he is trailing and almost become the killer. Sounds like trouble, right? Well, it is. Fischer’s investigation descends into a dreamlike world of cat and mouse, in which it’s never clear who is who and what is what. In fact, “The Element of Crime” is filled with so many wild ideas and technical tricks that it’s often hard to make heads or tails of what's going on. Despite the muddled narrative, however, “The Element of Crime” is a fascinating and hypnotic rumination on many themes, including: the transformation of Europe in the 1980s, the inherent connection between criminal and cop, and most interestingly, the structure and form of crime movies in general. By using cinematic devices, von Trier creates a surreal canvas in which reality is subjective. The result of his artistic enthusiasm is that the young filmmaker manages to mash up the themes and styles of many artists before him. Imagine "Blade Runner" co-directed by David Lynch and Terry Gilliam, based on a short story Dashell Hammet wrote on acid. Actually, that sounds like more fun. As we wander through the film’s hot, sweaty atmosphere, we hear out of this world voice over narration that expresses the mindset of our hero (“I’m going through the motions and just drawing blanks”). Not surprisingly, Fisher’s investigation is a road to nowhere, and it becomes clear that the film is more interested in commenting on a genre—and, to a lesser extent, analyzing the state of modern Europe—than providing a story. But even as the elusive tale slips away, we get memorable images like Fisher floating through his flooded office on a homemade raft. What does this mean? Your guess is as good as mine, but there’s no doubt it’s unique and unforgettable. Like his superior 1991 film “Europa,” “The Element of Crime” shows that before von Trier embraced the rules of Dogme 95 (and then broke them) he had a passion for experimental filmmaking. Unfortunately, “The Element of Crime” is all style and little substance. The confounding narrative and meandering action become frustrating, and what we’re left with is an intermittently involving example of a filmmaker on his way to becoming something more than he is here.

Last Word: An interesting dissection of the crime film that is heavy on style and light on substance. A fine choice for fans of von Trier and experimental film fanatics. Others should proceed with caution.

Review By:
Brendan Peterson

IN REVIEW ONLINE