"Before you hire this I should warn you  that it is based on a play..."
We cut in and reassured the worried looking video shop assistant that we had, in fact, already seen the film. I couldn't resist asking him, however, why he had felt he need to make such a speech. Two main reasons began to emerge. Firstly, Dogville's "set" creates a new standard in minimalism. Essentially it's all filmed on a sound stage. The buildings of the town of Dogville are represented only by a series of white outlines on the floor and a church spire suspended above the ground. Even the eponymous 'dog' is present only as an outline. This has apparently led some people to return the film before they've finished it, and, for some reason, think its acceptable to yell at the employees at the said video outlet for their own inability to choose a film they'd enjoy.

It's a shame they didn't carry on watching as, ironically such behaviour would not be untypical of the residents of Dogville. Although the fictional small town initally seems fairly normal - if slightly wary of outsiders - it becomes increasingly clear that it is actually far more insidious.

The white outline effect is certainly one of those "love it" or "hate it" things. On the one hand it certainly leaves the film without dramatic backdrops, or exqiuisite realistic period trimmings. However, it does focus the viewers attention on the acting performances, which are particularly convincing and compelling. Somehow, even though it's visually obvious that Dogville is a fictional story set in a fictional place, the actors make it feel incredibly real, and it draws you into the narrative. Part-way through the film the device really begins to come into its own. By removing the walls on the set, Dogville suggests that the walls in our real towns might be hiding more than we realise. 

Lars von Trier is a strange, seemingly contradictory director. He was one of the major players in the Dogme 95 'pure cinema', manifesto that swore to make film using only real locations, props and lighting, and no special effects or background music. His next film, the brilliant, but disturbing, Breaking the Waves, saw him flout a number of those rules and Dogville seems to go right to the far end of the spectrum from Dogme 95 in terms of production values, even if it maintains the focus on the performances.

The story centres around Grace (Nicole Kidman) who arrives in Dogville on the run from some gangsters. She is discovered and taken in by Tom (played by Paul Bettany) a young philosopher-poet wanabee. As well as helping her, she also provides him with the perfect "illustration" - something he has been searching for for a while. Tom challenges the other members of the town to show their good character by the way they treat this outsider, and convinced of their own goodness they take her in, albeit somewhat reluctantly . They also manage to find her a few jobs to do, eventhough they don't really need anything doing. Nevertheless, gradually the nastier side of the town starts to emerge and the people begin to turn against Grace and abuse her good nature.

Breaking the Waves (Spoilers for that film)
Anyone familiar with von Trier's other work will recognise some similarities. Here as with Breaking the Waves he presents us with a female Christ-figure - an essentially good character who puts others ahead of herself and yet suffers greatly as a result. Grace even arrives in Dogville from outside their world. The parallels in Breaking the Waves go further as Bess ultimiately dies so that her husband can live, and is then seemingly vindicated by God at the end of the film.

The Ending of Dogville (contains spoilers for Dogville)
Dogville appears to take us down the same path leaving us wondering if the film will end similarly. When Tom 'turns Judas' and brings the gangster's henchmen to the town it removes any doubt about Grace's Christ-figure credentials. But instead of being executed she sits down at the right hand of her father. The film jumps straight to the judgement of the world scene. So begins what is surely the most interesting, spiritual piece of dialogue this year. At first glance it appears that this is an allegorical conversation between Grace (representing Jesus) and her father representing God. Others have seen this as the debate between the God of the Old Testament and the God of the New. However the dialogue is much more subtle than that, and the conversation is essentially a two way struggle with the question of wrongdoing . When does it require mercy and when does it demand punishment?

The scene is made all the more interesting because it is unclear which side von Trier is backing. Grace's ultimate acceptance of her role as judge has earned the film much popularity amongst evangelical Christians, but there are certain indicators that may be hinting that von Trier actually finds such a view morally dubious. Some interpreted the technically artificial ending of Breaking the Waves as indicating it was also emotionally artificial, and if they are correct then Dogville would have to be seen in a similar light. However, if, as some claim, von Trier was inspired by Ordet, then the ending would appear to be more genuine. It's the kind of ambiguity that von Trier loves - it's his way of wrestling with these same issues. It makes wrestling with his art all the more productive for us.

A similar ambiguity exists between the opposing arguments of Grace and her father. Whilst we appreciate the goodness of Grace, taken strictly on their own, her father's arguments sound much more logical. It creates an uneasy tension that caused me to ask afresh " what do I really think about judgement?" It poses an unfashionable question in an incredibly stylish manner, casuing us to re-think a huge issue. And that is why despite finding parts of it uncomfortable viewing Dogville is one of my favourite films of the year. It's unafraid to shrug off such questions with neatly tied resolutions and dares to pose answers that no-one dares ask. It refuses to settle for giving pat answers, forcing you to struggle with it instead.

In some places this tendency annoys as much as it inspires. Someone once said that the art we hate has more impact on us than the art we love, and this certianly might be true of Dogville. The ending scene where Grace decides to kill all the inhabitants of the town left me annoyed the first time I saw it. All of a sudden this gentle Christ-like figure had veered into vindictive destruction of a mother's children. The disproportionality of it left me anoyed and frustrated, but as I began to reflect on it, it began to cast a new light on previous debates about the nature of Hell amongst other things.

The closing credits sequence places a montage of images of real Americans over David Bowie's song Young Americans, highlighting that what happened to Grace is a story that continues in the lives of real people. This along with comments von Trier has made has earned him accusations of anti-Americanism. Aside from the fact that the comments made very much appear to have been put into his mouth, abuse is all too common in all societies, including America, for this charge to stick. It's a theme von Trier has returned to, prehaps a little too often, and there seems little reason therefore to assume that Dogville is any more anti-American than Breaking the Waves is anti-British.

Some critics have also interpreted the charater of Tom as being von Trier's stand in for himself. Certainly giving the character the same name as one of the inventors of cinema could mean he represents the director, but it may also be simply that he is meant to be our way into the story. Whilst this may alleviate the charge of anti-Americanism, it shouldn't detract from Tom's more important role. Ultimately, the film is fairly clear that actually Tom doesn't love Grace at all, he just loves himself. His desire is to become a successful author and well thought of philosopher. His father (Thomas Edison Snr.) considers himself to be a "pretty fair judge of character" and Thomas Jnr. goes even further by assuming he knows the people in the town and what is good for them. Grace provides the illustration he thinks he so desperately needs to prove his point and so he convinces himself that he loves her. However, when he realises that not only is she not going to be the illustration he needs, but also that she might ruin his reputation and his chance to become a writer, he turns her in, instantly. 

But if he is meant to be our way into the story, then he represents us. And when his "do-gooding" is shown to be ultimately self-serving it points the finger at our failure to treat the strangers among us with more decency. From a Christian point of view it echoes Matt 7:21-23, and those who think they love Jesus, but are actually serving themselves. It raises the question of "to what extent do I accept Jesus, and to what extent is he just a convenient part of my self-service?" Will he say to me at Judgement day "I never knew you"?  The wider passage (Matt 7:17-23) links so strongly with the final scenes of this film that you wonder if it was on von Trier's mind when he wrote it.

Conclusion
These questions are unfashionable to ask anywhere these days, and sadly this often includes the church. Whilst we may not agree with Lars von Trier's answers, we should at least be glad that he is asking the question in such a frank and insightful manner.