The Boss of it All
Directed by Lars Von Trier
By contemporary standards, Lars Von Trier qualifies as one of the most restless cinematic experimenters. His contributions to the agitated, if occasionally flippant, dialogue on the progressive nature of the medium contains lasting salience. Say what you will about the aimlessness of the Danish visionary’s Dogme ’95 edict—the requirements of a barebones minimum approach to filmmaking indubitably forced a generation of filmmakers to reconsider the potential of digital technology. Applying energetic whimsy to the conceits behind his projects, Von Trier uses the logic of a mad scientist equipped with a politician’s agenda, incessantly retooling his work and constantly searching for ways to draw attention to himself. Whether viewers swooned or groaned at the minimalist theatricality of Dogville, there’s no question that Von Trier satisfied some component of his esoteric mission simply by jarring them into realizing that something was different.
It takes less than a minute to arrive at the awareness that things are formally amiss in The Boss of it All, Von Trier’s latest narrative ploy. Setting his sights on deadpan comedy, the director begins with a shaky crane shot of dull-colored office buildings, his own voice emerging on the soundtrack to reveal a fishy agenda. He introduces the upcoming narrative as “a comedy, and harmless as such. No preaching or swaying of opinion.”
Having keenly laid down an “as such” conditional, Von Trier allows himself to guiltlessly toy with the movie’s structure and theme. The Boss of it All is a comedy, and very successful in that regard. But it also perceptively identifies elements of loneliness and futility in daily existence, giving the plot its scathing edge. “Although you can see my reflection, this film won’t be worth a moment’s reflection,” Von Trier playfully claims as his camera swoops by a window, briefly revealing his face. It’s less a lie than a challenge.
Although conceptually unique (more on that in a bit), The Boss of it All has a minor story to sustain the narrative throughout its 100 minutes. A meek executive named Ravn (Peter Gantzler) can’t come to terms with his status as the company head, so he hires “a self-important, out-of-work actor,” the lanky blond Kristoffer (Jens Albinus), to take on the leadership role. Adding to the complications, the character precedes the performance. Ravn has spun a dense lie for his unwitting employees, sending out fabricated emails and building a mythology about a leader who doesn’t quite exist.
Once Kristoffer fills the shoes, however, he grows comfortable with the role, playing off his faux workers’ misconceptions and getting comfortable at his cushy desk. Conflict arises when a potential sales deal compromises the employees’ future, and Kristoffer is torn between allegiance to Ravn and an actor’s conflated sense of principles.
Unfolding in lengthy dialogue-driven scenes, The Boss of it All smartly deconstructs a comedic paradigm familiar in these parts from NBC’s “The Office.” The drab interiors and abnormally deadpan exchanges are contrasted with wildly unpredictable (and often squirm-worthy) situations, suggesting that desk jobs carry a certain fascination specifically because of their excessive mundanity. Von Trier’s technological toy this time around is a new technique called Automavision, wherein a computer chooses the camera angles, and the details are worked out during editing. It’s an imperfect system (the computer doesn’t seem to favor narrative continuity), with occasionally curious angles and enough jump cuts to throw Jean-Luc Godard into a tizzy.
Still, the aesthetic works after the initial adjustment period. The constant shuffling of framing strategies and perspective results in the feeling of reading a comic strip, which creates the main aesthetic. Unfolding largely through two-character vignettes, The Boss of it All shows that Von Trier cares for his characters, but only as far as his gimmicks will take them. It’s a bittersweet affair until the strikingly cynical finale, when the story takes a hilarious turn to reveal its caustic final though: Actors might struggle for their art, but good performers make fine businessmen.
