Tricky, tricky, tricky. Spends so long setting up subtle enough hairline fractures that all it needs to do in the last act is tap the glass. Three hours that somehow both don’t feel it and move very slowly.
I wanted to like this. Obviously a lot of people really like this, but I find it more than a little despicable. The first forty minutes or so are entertaining enough, if not incredibly anxious, before taking a left turn into what appears to be a meaningless, assaulting tailspin of overlong sequences, characters screaming over each other, and our quite likable protagonist having her life torn down wildly unsympathetically, the movie never for a second truly respecting her beyond lip…
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Certainly more difficult than its front half. While Nymphomaniac Volume I has a more “entertaining” narrative, moving forward quickly and ramping up accordingly, Volume II sees the pace cranked down, the sexuality deteriorated (to the point that some of it barely reflects sex at all), and Von Trier’s trademark cynicism escalated to ridiculous heights as Joe begins to narrate the period of her life where she is a low-functioning addict, as opposed to Volume I’s fundamentally broken, but kinda functioning,…
