There are ten rules for making a Dogme 95 film. You must shoot on location using lighting
and props found onsite with roving hand-held cameras; there can be no non-diegetic music
or sound effects. The plot should resist normal narrative action; it can’t contain any genre
elements, stunts or effects, and must take place in the here and now. And the director
must not be credited. Some film movements are difficult to define; Dogme 95 not only
supplies a manifesto, but its own certificates of authenticity.
Conceived by Danish filmmakers Lars von Trier and Thomas Vinterberg in 1995, the manifesto’s
rigid rules and aesthetic frugality gave rise to a puritanical reputation only mediated
by the taboo content of the films themselves. Despite this, the movement is more tongue-in-cheek
than serious; the founders even suggested that directors submit ‘confessions’ if
they broke the rules. To get a sense of the movement’s curious mix of rebellion, transgression
and dark humour, you need look no further than the first film created under the manifesto’s
rules- Vinterberg’s 1998 film Festen (The Celebration).
Christian arrives at the hotel his family owns for a celebration- his father’s 60th
birthday. Aggressive older brother Michael drags his long-suffering wife and kids along,
while metropolitan Helene has to stay in the room where Linda- Christian’s twin sister-
recently committed suicide. As the dinner begins, Christian rises to make a speech,
and reveals that his father repeatedly sexually abused him and Linda.
The taboo subject matter of Festen is reflected in its uncompromising style. Shot entirely
on the consumer format miniDV with simple camcorders, the film leans into its grungy
aesthetic, with disorientating, fast moving close-ups shot on distorted wide-angle lenses.
At times, it feels like watching home movies, making its abuse plotline all the more uncomfortable.
Vinterberg’s strict interpretation of the Dogme rules extends to post-production; in
moments throughout the film, dialogue lines are cut when the shot changes, a sign that
the audio from one shot has not been laid under the other. These intentionally amateurish
choices add up to a potently uncomfortable viewing experience. Working within the Dogme
constraints, Vinterberg and his team conjure some startling visuals; the camera swings
around, intentionally defocuses, and zooms into important moments. There’s also a surreal
touch to some of the imagery, laced with dark comedy; as the night wears on, the party slips
into denial, and a riotous conga line dances through the hotel.
Aside from its lo-fi visual aesthetic, dogme films are also characterised by their transgressive,
confrontational storylines- as can be clearly seen in Lars Von Trier’s Idioten (The Idiots).
Karen is dining alone at a restaurant, when she sees a woman caring for two people
with learning disabilities and tries to help out, leading to her leaving with them. Once in the car, they change their
mannerisms, and it becomes clear that this is an act. Stoffer is the leader of a commune
of young, middle-class adults who act as if they are disabled in public; initially repulsed
by this, Karen is drawn into their group as she searches for a familial connection.
Resisting an easy synopsis, The Idiots attracted considerable controversy on its release for
its portrayal of people with disabilities. The central questions raised by the film-
how can it be ethical to act like this, and why would you do it?- are actually discussed
repeatedly by characters. Stoffer claims variously to be helping people find an inner purpose
or peace, to be doing it to prove how unaccepting suburban attitudes are; to challenge prejudices.
Ultimately, von Trier portrays the characters’ justifications for acting this way as weak
and hypocritical; that no-one seems to agree on why they’re doing it implies that there
might be no real reason other than that it’s fun. Certainly any high-minded social purpose
to their activities is betrayed by their discomfort once they are dared to do it in their own
home or work life. In a key scene, a group of people with Downs syndrome arrive at the
commune’s home and have lunch with them; Stoffer is furious, and afterwards the group
seems disinterested in acting out. After all, they’ve reacted like the middle class suburbanites
they’re supposed to be mocking. As Stoffer encourages riskier behaviour, and the previously-opposed
Karen becomes a star performer, the film’s complicated politics shift underfoot, and
the ultimate point of what’s happening- both for the characters and von Trier- is
left in doubt, with the distinct possibility that the whole thing is a joke, although at
whose expense is unclear.
Although von Trier and Vinterberg interpreted their manifesto in dark and uncomfortable
ways, it is possible to make a Dogme 95 film with a lighter feel. There’s even a romantic
comedy: Lone Scherfig’s Italian for Beginners.
Vicar Andreas arrives in a Danish suburb to replace a suspended pastor; he stays in a
nearby hotel, where the friendly receptionist Jorgen is struggling with disciplining his
friend Hal-finn, who works in the hotel restaurant. Hal-finn is trying to romance hairdresser
Karen, who is caring for her alcoholic mother; across town, clumsy Olympia is barely holding
down a job at the bakery while caring for her ailing father. These disparate plotlines
all coalesce around an Italian class taught at the local college.
Like other Dogme films, Italian for Beginners features a range of characters dealing with
personal, private pain; there are difficulties with family, sexuality and faith. Andreas
is recently bereaved; Olympia struggles with her overbearing father and what is implied
to be an undiagnosed disability. Opportunities for freedom are hard-won and can be removed
at a moment’s notice; in one scene, Hal-vinn and Karen share a moment of tenderness, only
for it to be interrupted by a phone call about Karen’s mother.
Despite these difficult subjects, Scherfig’s story is lightly told, full to the brim with
wry humour and spot-on observations about the stranger parts of life. Funerals are double-booked,
sermons are heckled, and a restaurant manager dresses and acts more like he’s on the sidelines
of a pitch. As love works its way into the characters’ lives- whether that’s friendship,
familial or romantic love- they begin to change for the better. Unlike the stubbornly unresolved
narratives of Festen and Idioten, in Italian for Beginners, salvation is possible.
Dogme 95 was officially disbanded in 2005, as its founders moved onto different projects-
like von Trier’s equally experimental Dogville. During its ten-year run, Dogme films were
produced all around the world; 31 official Dogme films were made, including French, American
and Argentinian productions. Its stripped-back style was further developed by filmmakers
like Harmony Korine, and in the age of low budget digital production, its guerilla filmmaking
has become commonplace. But with its carefully balanced blend of aesthetic and narrative
transgression, Dogme 95 holds a special place in cinema history.