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The House That Jack Built

2018 · Directed by Lars von Trier

Original language: English

  • drama
  • horror
  • crime
  • thriller

The story

Failed architect, engineer and vicious murderer Jack narrates the details of some of his most elaborately orchestrated crimes, each of them a towering piece of art that defines his life's work as a serial killer for twelve years.

What it’s like

Cold, deliberately ugly digital imagery: harsh fluorescent light in sterile rooms, flat overcast grey over snowy American roads, and a 1970s Pacific Northwest that feels bleached and unlovely. Von Trier shoots in a restless handheld style, with jump cuts, chapter-like title cards, and frequent sharp shifts into stylised, almost operatic interludes of hellish imagery, including Dante-inflected descents and grotesque tableaux that sit uneasily beside the plainness of the rest. The score is a mix of classical pieces and sudden abrasive silences, so the soundtrack keeps unsettling the viewer. Its vibe is bleak, mordant and confrontational, a dark, provocative provocation rather than a comfort watch. Pacing is long and talky, with Jack's monologues over the action; his arc traces a self-regarding man sinking further into compulsion while insisting on his own artistry, and an older, weary guide figure hears him out. Intensity is high: graphic and sustained violence, including child murder, sexual violence and cruelty, with much of the brutality shown directly and at length. Not gentle, and not for anyone seeking relief. It is for viewers who want a severe, unflinching study of misanthropy and moral vanity, and who can sit through repugnance as part of the experience.

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