Melancholia is about collisions, whether they are familial, mental or literal. Justine (Kirsten Dunst) plays a bride so paralysed by depression on her wedding day that her marriage is ruined before the cake is even cut. Her mental illness collides with family expectations that insist she keep on this farce of white lace to prove their wealth and reputation. The first half of the film effectively sets up what Justine has to lose by the second half, when a rival planet, Melancholia, is supposed to collide with Earth.  However, the only one who seems to care about this is Justine’s sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), who battles with her sister’s misanthropy and her husband’s (an intense Kiefer Sutherland) dogmatic reliance on science to save the day in the face of oblivion.

Dunst is a revelation, a dark prophet in these end times. Justine's cynical foreboding knowledge puts her family and the viewer effectively on edge, as she states bluntly, “Nobody will miss it. Life on Earth is evil.” Yet it is Dunst’s vacant eyes that communicate more than most actors could in a monologue.  However, while Dunst’s detached Justine horrifies us, it’s Gainsbourg’s Claire that we can recognise ourselves in. Claire’s extremely anxious self-preservation balances out Justine’s depressed nihilism.  Claire ultimately connects us to the tragedy for humanity that the total annihilation of Earth is. Both women act as opposing forces and bring us the closest to resolution that such a film can give.

This film is genuinely stunning. Whether you leave the theatre psychologically drained or physically shaking is up to you, but either way, it is one of the most emotionally affecting films around this season.