User Reviews

I'm not a fan of von Trier to begin with. But this movie just got in to my mind really bad. Couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it good, was it bad, if I admit I liked it does that make me half insane? It's a movie that doesn't let go of it's viewers, even though they walk away. I had to pause several times, not because of its length but because the cruelty and sickening things and the anticipation of what was going to happen. But I always came back. I had to see what was coming.. Those ambivalent feelings stuck so hard.. Oh boy. Both disgusted and fascinated. I have to admit that I know feel like a horrible person for liking the movie. It was somewhat pretentious, but imo quite better done than Lynch.

Yes, you do think about LvT and what mindset he has to come up a movie like this. This movie just breaks all barriers. It is extreme. No wonder people walked out of the premiere. But it does have good actors, nice camera work, interesting scenery and a sensation of well done movie.

It's not a movie for a easily horrified audience. Perhaps it's best to watch it alone. And to say you didn't like it or maybe even that you never seen it.

You know that a Lars von Trier serial killer movie is unlikely to be like anyone else's serial killer movie; that it is most likely to be more gruesome and perhaps even with a streak of very black humour and "The House that Jack Built" certainly doesn't disappoint. What we might not have guessed was that it would take the form of a dialogue between our serial killer, Jack, (a never better Matt Dillon), and some Stygian boatman who is probably rowing him all the way to Hades, (Bruno Ganz. perfectly cast).

When it was shown at Cannes a number of critics walked out. Why? Could they really have been so sensitive or did they just want to punish von Trier for even showing up? Certainly no-one could deny that as serial killer movies go this one is highly original; you might even call it pretentious but then you'd be missing the joke or could that have been the reason for those walk-outs? Serial killers aren't supposed to be funny.

Using animation, paintings and newsreels to illustrate Jack's 'career' von Trier goes his own way as usual and the von Trier way is, as we know, both shocking and disturbing in ways other director's films simply aren't. If you want to see a 'thriller', forget it but if you want to get inside the head of one crazily inventive outsider, (von Trier, who else), then this is the one for you.

This movie was definitely a roller coaster. Some very intense scenes and some very slow ones. For the most part, I enjoyed the film. I will say it was different from your average horror flick. The camera work reminded me of something you'd see in a docudrama. Matt Dillon was great in this. Based on his performance alone you should give this film a shot. I've been reading a lot of criticism towards the director. I guess I'll have to watch some of his older work. 7 stars.

Ostensibly a psychological horror/serial killer film, in reality, the latest from professional provocateur Lars von Trier is more a dark comedy about the nature of art, capped off with a quite literal descent into Hell. As much an interrogation of his own dark psychology as an "up yours" to his detractors and the oft-levelled accusations of misogyny, von Trier all but dares you to be offended, whether by the violence done to a duckling, the cold-blooded murder of children, the verbal degradation of a woman, the critique of the #MeToo movement, the celebration of Albert Speer, or the mockery of American gun culture. Partly self-reflexive, the film is more of an apologia than an apology for von Trier's oeuvre. When he's really on his game (Breaking the Waves (1996), Dancer in the Dark (2000), Dogville (2003), Melancholia (2011)), von Trier is capable of depicting horrific violence alongside psychologically complex characters and scenes of devastating emotional veracity. House, which is far too long and tends towards self-indulgence, doesn't come anywhere near those heights, and is thus more open to accusations of empty provocation, but von Trier has definitely tapped into "something" here, and, love it or hate it, you will react to it.

As the film begins, we hear (but don't see) a conversation between Jack (an emotionless Matt Dillon) and "Verge" (the always superb Bruno Ganz) as Jack attempts to defend and justify his serial killing. Choosing to discuss five random but illustrative "incidents" over a period of twelve years during the 70s and 80s, the subsequent film is divided into six sections ("1st Incident", "2nd Incident" etc., and "Epilogue: Katabasis"). A wannabe architect whose mother forced him to be an engineer, Jack, who suffers from OCD, contends that his murders are literal works of art, and has given himself the moniker "Mr Sophistication". And that's about it as far as plot is concerned, although it certainly wouldn't hurt to be at least partially familiar with the work of William Blake and the Inferno book of Dante Alighieri's Divina Commedia.

The film was originally developed as a TV miniseries by von Trier and Jenle Hallund, who has a "Story By" credit on the final film. Premièring out of competition at Cannes 2018, it was the first film in Cannes history to feature a warning on the tickets (for "scènes violentes"), and at the much-publicised première, over one-hundred people walked out, although those that stayed gave it a ten-minute standing ovation. Particularly galling to some viewers has been the scene where a young Jack (Emil Tholstrup) cuts off a duckling's leg, places it back into the pond from which he took it, and watches it drown. PETA, however, defended the film, praising the fact that it draws attention to the link between adolescent animal abuse and adult psychopathy, and for the realistic special effects.

To begin parsing the film, one first needs to look at the character of Jack himself, specifically his lack of emotional interiority. Call it sociopathy, call it an inability to empathise, whilst there's definitely an intellectual core (seen in the many digressions he and Verge take concerning art and the nature of the artist), Jack is emotionally dead. Although we see him practising various emotional states in the mirror, he does this so as not to stand out when in the company of others, and the only real emotions we ever see from him are irritation and anger, and even they are rare. Irritation is confined mainly to the 1st Incident, where he gives a lift to a woman whose car has broken down (Uma Thurman), and gradually gets more and more vexed as she goads him - telling him he looks like a serial killer but is obviously way too much of a "wimp" to ever actually kill anyone. Anger is mainly seen in the 5th Incident, when, right as he is about to murder a group of men tied up in the industrial freezer he uses to store bodies, he realises he has been sold hollow point bullets instead of full metal jackets, prompting an infuriated trip to the gun store and a hilarious berating of the owner, Al (Jeremy Davies).

It is, of course, impossible to ignore the parallels between Jack and von Trier himself. Although Jack is not a 1:1 surrogate, it's hard to deny the analogy of how Jack feels the need to one-up himself with each murder, becoming more and more sadistic as he goes. This, of course, has become a very common criticism of von Trier's filmography. He has also been accused of misogyny and of exploiting the psychological (and often physical) suffering of his actors, just as Jack is a misogynist who exploits the suffering of his victims. And this isn't subtext. Rather, von Trier himself makes the connection explicit when a discussion of genocide and tyranny features a montage of scenes from his own filmography.

As with Nymph()maniac, the film is structured around a conversation between two people, with frequent digressions to topics often fairly tangential to the main narrative. So whilst Nymph()maniac gave us treaties on fly-fishing, parallel parking, and the Fibonacci sequence, House features discussions concerning viticulture, the oak tree in Buchenwald, cathedral architecture, and the dichotomy of predator and prey (via a rather simplistic comparative analysis of Blake's "The Lamb" (1776) and "The Tyger" (1794)). One especially interesting digression is a monologue where Jack laments the fact that men are the defacto villains of every situation. Being set in the 70s and 80s, there's no specific mention of #MeToo, but it's obvious where the invective is aimed. Coming across like a slightly more unhinged Jordan B. Peterson, Jack has no time for debates concerning gender fluidity or sexual misconduct, even going so far as to suggest that women are more cooperative murder victims because they're "easier to work with." You can all-but hear Rose McGowan blowing a gasket!

Aside from the aforementioned duckling scene, by far the most disturbing scene is the 4th Incident. Here, we are introduced to Jacqueline (an excellent Riley Keough), whom Jack has been dating for a while. What is most distressing about the scene is not how Jack kills her (although it's far and away the most graphic death in the film), but what precedes her murder, as Jack mercilessly verbally belittles her, calling her by the nickname he has given her, "Simple", because he believes she is so unintelligent. He then takes great delight in revealing to her that he is Mr Sophistication, suggesting that she scream; the futility of which he demonstrates by shouting out an open window, "no one will help you." It's a devastating scene, far more emotionally upsetting than it is physically violent, and because of that, it's one of the best scenes in the film, provoking a genuine emotional response in the viewer beyond mere disgust.

As unsettling as this scene is, the film can also be extremely funny, with the entire 2nd Incident playing out like an extended Key and Peele (2012) sketch. Trying to gain entry to a woman's (Siobhan Fallon Hogan) house, Jack does a hilariously bad impression of a policeman, explaining, "I don't have my badge with me because I'm getting a promotion", and then cheerfully waving to a passing driver as if they are best friends. Once inside, he only manages to kill his victim at the third attempt, and then, having left the house, his OCD compels him to return three times to check for blood splatters in such places as behind a picture on the wall and under the leg of a chair. Finally, to get away from the cops that have shown up, he ties the body to the back of his van, pulling it along the road, and leaving a blood trail from the house to his industrial freezer, only for it to start raining and erase the blood.

I'd be remiss here if I didn't mention the extraordinarily beautiful epilogue, wherein Jack and Verge descend to hell ("Katabasis" is the Ancient Greek word for "descent"). This incredible sequence starts with a stunning repurposing of Eugène Delacroix's La Barque de Dante (1822), and culminates in a Hell that's equal parts Hieronymus Bosch, Pieter Bruegel the Elder, and Zdzislaw Beksinski.

However, the film is far from perfect. For starters, it can be incredibly self-indulgent. It's also unnecessarily long, and there are stretches which are extremely tedious. I'm also not sure that a clip reel of von Trier's own films was the wisest choice. Additionally, the female characters, by the very nature of the narrative structure, are empty shells who exist only to be murdered. We may feel a degree of sympathy for them (especially Sofie Gråbøl in the 3rd Incident), but only Jacqueline has any degree of psychological verisimilitude. Some of the digressions concerning art and its relationship to love and hate are also (perhaps intentionally) juvenile and intellectually vapid.

Whilst it could be argued that House is about a desensitised world indifferent to suffering, it seems to be more about Lars von Trier and the criticisms that have been levelled against him over the years. Although he doesn't seem willing to apologise for anything, he is more than happy to defend, attempting to use the depiction of violence so as to facilitate introspection, reflecting on the importance (or lack thereof) of morality and culpability in artistic creation. House is an especially self-reflexive and somewhat self-disdainful film, which Von Trier has intimated may be his last, and if that is so, it certainly makes for a fittingly provocative and confrontational final word.

I have a proposal for those who have not yet seen 'The House That Jack Built', Lars von Trier's latest film (2018). Try to forget who the director is. I know it's not easy, because we are dealing with a person and a personality who provokes and shocks, who seeks and attracts scandals and who knows that advertising is best when it's bad. My opinion, after watching this film to which the 2018 Cannes Film Festival scheduled only a premiere out of competition, is that the attitudes and reactions triggered by this film are much more extreme than the film itself. It is a dissection and a psychological analysis of a serial killer, developed with effusion over two and a half hours of screening, but I did not find in this film anything that would shock me more than what I experienced for example at the screenings of 'The Silence of the Lambs' or 'Zodiac' and the graphic visual details do not exceed what we saw in the countless films in the series 'Scream', 'Halloween' or 'Elm Street', not to mention the violent and psychological intensity of the films of Tarantino, Lanthimos or von Trier himself. Whoever manages to separate this film from the advertising shell of the image that the director is trying to build to himself will have many reasons for cinematic satisfaction.

Von Trier assumes in 'The House That Jack Built' the risk of describing five episodes of the blood and corpse-laden journey of a serial killer. At one point, Jack, the hero of the film, played by Matt Dillon, confesses to his future victim that he committed 60 murders and is about to commit the 61st. One of the messages of the film may be that one should believe the statements of those who confess to criminal inclinations and bloody sins. Why is von Trier a special case? Other directors who have approached such themes and characters have not faced similar dangers, but von Trier has made enough other extreme films (but also some sublime ones) as well as shocking statements, so that when he speaks evil we may be tempted to believe him. Jack's travel partner in the film is most of the time a voiceover borrowed from Bruno Ganz, that of a character named Verge, who receives Jack's confessions and forces him to look for the roots of the deeds he commits. Is there any possible justification? Is there any other alternative end to this journey than in one of the hottest circles of Hell?

Matt Dillon succeeds to create in 'The House That Jack Built' one of the best roles of his career confirming the statistics that make the roles of psychotic criminals career peaks for the actors who play them. Bruno Ganz - in one of his last roles, he would die less than a year after the premiere of this film - creates an excellent counter-character in Verge, and the use of off-screen dialogue between the two is in this case perfectly justified. Lars von Trier copiously uses the collage technique by inserting animation, sequences from his own films, documentary sequences (including with characters embodying the evil that Hitler and Mussolini) and musical sequences such as those with pianist Glenn Gould. The original music and the soundtrack belong to Víctor Reyes and the cinematography to Manuel Alberto Claro, the faithful director of cinematography of von Trier for more than a decade. The America described by von Trier (who has never visited the North American continent) is perfectly believable, the realism of the scenes amplifying the horror effect. The combination of sophisticated references, core dialogue, psychological analysis of the character on the one hand and his behaviour on the screen on the other hand can be confusing and shocking, but it is interesting and asks questions that seem legitimate to me about how evil can be represented on screen. Anyone who knows von Trier's films understands that he rarely compromises. This is not the case here either and in my opinion the balance is clearly positive.

The story follows Jack (Matt Dillon), a highly intelligent serial killer, over the course of 12 years, and depicts the murders that develop his inner madman.

Also starring - Bruno Ganz, Uma Thurman, Siobhan Fallon Hogan, Sofie Gråbøl, Riley Keough, Jeremy Davies.

This doesn't happen often: I watched the whole movie, the two and a half hours of it, and still couldn't say whether I find it good or bad, or even whether I liked it or not. Didn't find it boring, that's for sure - although I wouldn't call it exciting either, exactly.

One reason are the short but vivid scenes of extreme violence, which make one take a mental step back from the experience, and even think about not writing a review at all. Just in case that some reader would think that I condone violence or something.

The second reason is, of course, Lars von Trier himself, the co-writer and director of this joint. He doesn't seem extreme in interviews, but when it comes to work, the notorious film-maker likes to provoke and divide audiences without hesitation.

And "The House That Jack Built" might just be one of his crowning achievements in that.

Critics are divided as well. Many see the movie as empty provocation, or just tedious. Some see it as a something more. One is certain: it's not a mainstream entertainment. Not only for the overall creepiness and length, but also for how it's been put together.

You see, Von Trier has been more interested in making a point than making a movie with audience-friendly flow or tempo.

Compared to the "regular" movies, there's no clear structure - yes, Jack's story is divided between five cases but what happens during each is never easily anticipated - or for how long.

This is one of those rare movies which keep you guessing for the most time, never knowing what can happen next.

Von Trier also doesn't try to build and hold suspense, like in a "normal" movie, especially the one about serial killers.

He may have even actively worked against letting us just watch and get carried away because there's so much narration during the whole thing - in fhe form of constant dialogue between Jack and his mysterious companion played by Bruno Ganz.

Maybe because of the spotaneousness and unpredicability of the central antihero, it somehow still works. I never found myself idling and bored. Even during the end-section that left me even quite puzzled, which was clearly the authors' intent.

What makes it all so provocative and divisive, then, you may ask. It's the constant narration or dialogue between the serial killer and his companion. They argue over different things, mainly whether killing can be considered as art, and what makes murder such a bad thing anyway.

At first glance, these may seem like a stupid questions, but there's more to these arguments than wish to break taboos or something. Von Trier has deeper thoughts on the matter, and he wishes to make the audience think along.

People will interpret Von Trier's intentions differently, which is surely part of his goal. I would summarize the central thesis that if art is an act of creation and self-expression, then artful killing can be art too (which it certainly is for the serial killer Jack).

And before you rush to claim that killing is bad, let's not forget that everybody is at least indirectly or partly responsible for certain amount of death around the world, from eating meat, or even buying it and then just throwing it away, to not taking an active stand against destroying the environment where we all live.

Von Trier goes on to discuss several connecting themes, such as how killing can be addiction and how most of the violence is somehow associated with only men.

But the most shocking parts are Jack's actual killings, especially some that I didn't believe the author would dare to include in this day and age of political correctness.

Then again, the director's own stance seems to be against killing, because it's never glorified which is rare in the movies indeed.

Some of these acts may be funny in their own horrible way but none is intended to make you feel this adrenalin-induced watching glee as in most action flicks. If a person gets shot, for example, there's nothing cool and visually captivating about it. One just drops down like a big bag of flour, and stays this way.

Having commented on all the "important" things about the production, I can't forget Matt Dillon giving a remarkable performance as our anti-hero.

Just like the movie's approach to killings, there is nothing show-offish about him work. He seems to have wholly immersed into this character which makes him just mesmerizing in its own quiet way.

Dillon's easy naturalness combined with the unpredictability of the character makes this a cinematic "bad guy" to remember, although there's little unforgettably cinematic about him per se.

"The House That Jack Built" is a movie quite unlike anything else that you can see in cinemas this year. Unless you and I visit very different kind of cinemas.

Anyway, don't approach without hard stomach. Von Trier is not for everybody, and has never been, especially his latest.

Lars Von Trier's 2018 film, "The House That Jack Built," transcends its surface narrative as a grimly comedic exploration of art and violence to serve as a potent dissection of its creator's own psyche.

The film's brutal story, punctuated by the existential musings of its titular character, Jack (Matt Dillon), serves as a conduit through which the filmmaker grapples with his own artistic impulses and the expectations levied upon him by society. To understand the film in its fullest context, one needs to delve deep into Von Trier's psyche and the broader tapestry of his own work.

Von Trier has been known for his controversial films, which often push the boundaries of societal norms and cinematic conventions. These are no casual forays into discomfort, but rather, they are systematic explorations of the human condition and the outer limits of behavior. At times, it seems as though Von Trier himself may benefit from psychoanalysis, if only to shed light on the psyche of the man who can create such unsettling masterpieces.

"The House That Jack Built," is not merely a tale about a serial killer; it is a study of a man who progressively pushes the boundaries of his art, mirroring Von Trier's own journey in filmmaking. Jack, initially an engineer, is bound by the constraints of his profession and societal norms, but he yearns for the freedom to be an architect, seeking to build a legacy for himself; something he can achieve through his own vision - in this instance, a house.

The pivotal moment in the film comes with the interjection of a sudden, transformative passion that sets Jack on a new path. It's a passion that steers Jack away from the norm, pushing him towards a path of greater personal significance - at least in his own eyes. This mirrors Von Trier's career, marked by a significant shift from mainstream narratives to pushing cinematic boundaries with films that provoke, challenge, and disturb.

Initially, Jack is depicted as a haphazard executioner, but as he grows more comfortable with his new 'craft,' his art becomes more daring, creative, and experimental. In a parallel manner, Von Trier's early pieces might have seemed less refined or unpredictable to some observers. However, as he honed his craft, experimented, trialed, and tests, he has developed a signature filmmaking style that consistently provokes intense responses from viewers.

In the end, Jack does indeed build a legacy, but not as he initially planned. His 'house' ends up being a collection of his monstrous deeds, a testament to his twisted artistic journey. Again, the parallels to Lars remain; His body of work, much like Jack's, has often been met with shock, controversy, and rejection. Despite this, or perhaps because of it, he continues to create, leaving an indelible mark on the world of cinema.

Von Trier's "The House That Jack Built" is thus not just a film about a murderer, but an exploration of the nature of art and the struggle of the artist. It is a deep dive into the mind of an individual who defies convention, providing a provocative commentary on the creative process and the artist's role in society. It is, in many ways, a self-portrait of Von Trier himself, who, like his protagonist Jack, continually tests the limits of his artistry, undeterred by societal perceptions.

I just saw Lars Von Trier's new film 'The House That Jack Built' at the Atlantic Film Festival. I'm not extremely familiar with Trier's other work (I love Antichrist and Dancer in the dark is one of the most depressing films I've ever seen), but I've still been looking forward to this one since its premiere at Cannes. The subject matter peaked my interest and the trailer looked great. The early reviews got me even more invested as everyone was saying it was Trier's most disturbing and violent film yet.

'The House That Jack Built' was fairly brutal, yet oddly comical (if you can look past the disturbing material) and widely entertaining. I was not expecting it to be as funny as it was considering all of the 'hype' around the film's dark brutality since its screening at Cannes. Having said that there are some extremely gruesome and disturbing scenes which are effective in what they set out to do.

The film is divided into 5 sections plus an epilogue. A strange structure but ultimately I think that it benefited the film as we see a slight progression of Jack's character throughout. Though it can feel a bit repetitive at points, it never gets boring and is continuously engaging. Matt Dillon was excellent as the truly psychopathic serial killer Jack. It was honestly probably the best role I've seen him in (seriously, he should be in more movies).

There are many philosophical discussions about the nature of art throughout the film. This can either come off as super pretentious or can actually add to the film. I thought it worked fine in the context of the film as it relates very much to the character of Jack and how he views himself and his, so to say, 'art'

The film portrays the violence in a fairly realistic manner and does not hold back. At all. Seriously, the movie is not for the faint of heart. But it never came across as gratuitous or 'edgy'. It felt like Trier was just showing us what these scenarios would look like if a serial killer viewed his killings as art.

If you're a fan of Trier's work then definitely try and see this one. Even if you're just a fan of disturbing art-films, check it out. It has a screening at VIFF in October but other than that I have no idea where you can see it. Surprisingly, the Atlantic Film Festival (Halifax, Nova Scotia) had a one-night screening for the film. Either way, try and see it if it looks interesting to you. I highly recommend it. 9/10.

Greetings from Lithuania.

"The House That Jack Built" (2018) is a movie that made me feel disturbed while i was watching it. I won't spoil anything, but the movie is about serial killer, and the way he does his "thing" was disturbing for me. And make no mistake, this a movie by L.V. Trier, so it won't be your typical and straightforward story about serial killer. And for the most part i was really involved into this movie, but then the last 20 min or so were really poetic and just a bit to much for me.

Overall, if you didn't like any of L.V. Triers previous movie, "The House That Jack Built" won't make him your fan that is for sure. On the other hand its a very skillfully made movie that kept me involved into its disturbing story right until the ending, which was a bit to much for me, unfortunately.

Does anyone else miss pre-depression era Lars von Trier? I still give him Antichrist and even Melancholia, but the "just because" stylistic choices of the tedious Nymphomaniac made me yearn for a time when he had enough thought behind his unconventionality to give us his wonderful Dancer in the Dark, and enough humor to give us Riget. He was always nasty, defiant, and upsetting like only he knows how, but something has changed.

Now we have The House That Jack Built; another film that, despite how different it is from every other movie out now, still manages to be predictable if you know your Trier. I often defend strange decisions and rule-breaking in film, as with Michael Haneke's Funny Games, but Von Trier somehow manages to make clear that the only reason he's breaking the rules is that he's Von Trier, the supposed arthouse emperor. See what I did with that shot? Aren't these title cards weird? Look at how oddly edited everything is!

We get "more of the usual" in other departments as well. The documentary-esque camera work (à la Dogme 95), the super-slow-motion bits, the jump-cuts, the lengthy lecture-like conversations, and the controversial scenes of violence and mutilation. The villain protagonist, OCD-ridden serial killer Jack, narrates the film nigh constantly, and despite sometimes doing us the favor of explaining to us what he's thinking and feeling, I don't know that he ranks among the greatest, most complex killers of cinema.

Matt Dillon is good in the role but like many a recent Trier character, Jack rarely partakes in any particularly human-sounding interactions or monologues. It's difficult to emotionally connect with the characters of Trier lately, especially when they start reciting whatever opinion or observation was on the director's mind while he was writing and felt the need to vent.

The movie supposedly alludes to his fiasco at Cannes. You know, that time when he apparently "understood Hitler"? I didn't notice this when I saw the film myself but I believe in the critics (there's definitely a sequence where he congratulates himself on his filmography and dubs himself misunderstood). It's nice that he got to screen another film at the festival after all, but the film in question may have made his future at Cannes uncertain.

In the movie, Jack retells a number of "incidents" from the past 12 years of his life, where he would slaughter women played by the likes of Uma Thurman, Riley Keough, and Siobhan Fallon Hogan - these scenes, I gather, haven't exactly countered the idea that Von Trier has weird feelings about women. I maintain that he gave us admirable female characters in pictures like Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark, but who knows? Did the divorce change things?

Listening avidly to Jack's tale is Bruno Ganz, never seen by the viewer but often heard making obvious observations, and/or notes which Von Trier no doubt really WANTS the audience to make during a given scene. Again, thanks for the assistance.

The House That Jack Built is just not that rewarding to watch. It's amazing how a movie can be so different, so completely defiant, and yet so completely unsurprising at the same time. When you're spoonfed all emotions and themes, and you've gotten used to the cruel violence and even the persistent rule-breaking within the presentation, what's there to chew on? Towards the end, the film goes for a more surreal (albeit at times just "random") approach and I find myself interested again, although it isn't quite enough.

Hell, the film doesn't even have Udo Kier. What kind of Von Trier film is that?

In the 70´s, the serial-killer Jack (Matt Dillon) is having a conversation with the mysterious Verge (Bruno Ganz) about his murders. Jack, who has obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) and the nickname "Mr. Sophistication", randomly reports five incidents to show Verge that his murders are artwork. However Verge tells that love is missing in his works to be art. Meanwhile Jack builds and demolishes the house searching for the correct material.

"The House That Jack Built' is a creepy story of a serial-killer by Lars von Triers. Matt Dillon is perfectly cast in the role of a serial-killer that needs to clean the crime scene since he has OCD. There some questions without answer but in general it is a good film. My vote is seven.

Title (Brazil):"A Casa que Jack Construiu" ("The House That Jack Built")

Two and a half hours spent on this boring movie. Great story, that after 30 min just turned to some boring psycho-philosophical street.

Fabulous and remarkable film that grabs a hold of the viewer from the very start. Even though this breaks my own little 'Dogma' rules in that a film of over two hours repetition and numbered scenes should be avoided, Lars von Trier asserts his authority and as far as I am concerned holds attention and (unbelievably!) belief until the wondrous and spectacular Dante inspired ending. The performance of Matt Dillon is crucial and his opening scene with Uma Thurman vital to the film's success. As it happens the scene is utter perfection and the varied and mounting degrees of humour, frustration, anger and retribution are all present and ensure that the attentive viewer is sucked in. Brilliant film making and although I have tended to ignore the director in recent years because of length, I am a convert.

Watching a horror movie would have been easier to watch. Entire film Iv been asking my self "WHAT THE HELL AM I WATCHING." I should have turn it off.. but this movie just makes u wanna keep watching wondering what happens next.

I just got back from seeing the directors cut of The House that Jack Built, and man, it was quite the experience. First and foremost, if you don't have a strong stomach for violence and generally aggressive behavior then this probably isn't going to be for you, however I'm not sure how much of what I saw will be in the rated R cut. This is a nasty movie, about a nasty man. It is quite graphic in some scenes, though none of the violence ever felt out of place or just there to shock. The acting by everyone involved is top-notch, the writing and direction is absolutely fantastic, as well. This movie can be surprisingly funny, from time to time. The cinematography was very well done, although some scenes are less memorable than others due to not being as unique as they could have been. There is a review here on IMdB who states this movie had no meaning, and also says they didn't even watch the whole movie. I'd definitely suggest getting through to the end and making your own decision on that. All in all, if you're a fan of artsy movies, underground horror, true crime, or extreme cinema in general I highly suggest seeking this one out.

I wanted to like this movie. I really did. But there are way too many things that drag it down. First off, it's slow. Reeeaally slow. Now that wouldn't be such a bad thing, but it's also really long. The dialouge is very monotone and not engaging. Honestly, I have never been so bored watching people get murdered. Even the action is derivative and difficult to pay attention to. There is some good acting and it is shot well, but that does not save it from being boring. By the time I got to the end, all I wanted was for it to finally be over with. But instead it just limps alongs even slower to a completely nonsensical finish. I'm not a huge fan of art films, and this one is the reason why. Overall, it's quite overrated and really only appeals to a small target audience.

It has got a lot of narration, and scenes that are not directly related to the murders. I don't quite understand these scenes. I find the story too sickening and yet not gripping.