Wow, this was perfect timing since I just watched this film on Netflix 2 nights ago! Thanks for the review, Denis. It is incredibly dark, and therefore not for everyone. But also beautifully filmed.
I wonder what Lars Von Trier thinks of his still valuing beauty (which he obviously does) in such a cold and meaningless universe (according to him). Why are we attracted to and moved by beautiful bodies - both planetary and human. Is it just chemical reactions in the brain? Obviously science itself can't be trusted, since the experts' predictions proved wrong. If all is meaninglessness then everything is just a snake eating it's own tail. But if that's the way things really are, maybe suicide is the best response after all - as the one character chose.
Well, sorry for rambling on a bit. But I appreciated Von Trier starting this conversation, and I appreciated your response.

Tim:
You raise a good question, and one that I think Christians need to rethink today. When I was in college in the Sixties, to ask how beauty could have significance in a meaningless universe was to make a point that caused real crisis--perhaps the perspective of meaninglessness wasn't possible after all. Today, however, I find people are willing to reply in one of two ways: either this is one of the great mysteries of life (and thus unexplainable) or natural processes have brought us to the stage where we can appreciate proximate beauty (truth, justice, etc), where no absolute is possible. In both cases suicide then becomes untenable as a reasonable choice.

Like you, I deeply appreciate von Trier's willingness to pose such questions so wonderfully, and realize he requires me as a Christian to rethink the "standard Christian answer."
Thanks so much for commenting.

This is interesting timing here as well. Not because I watched the film; I don't know if I can. The timing for me is my own melancholia. The phrase "We will be saved by beauty" is intensely important to me. I struggle with the reality of what has been done for us, as is often common, I know it in my head, but sometimes my head and my wounded heart are worlds apart. It is beauty that gives me hope.
I also just quoted Charlotte Bronte yesterday;
‎"As to being happy—I am under scenes and circumstances of excitement—but I suffer acute pain sometimes—mental pain—I mean."
— Charlotte Brontë, from a letter to Ellen Nussey, 9 December 1849
That struck me, because I think happiness is over-rated. And, as maybe this movie is an example, some of the most beautiful things are borne out of pain and suffering.
People who give up on me early on in the game only see that I am a person who does not always put on a happy face, and some circles demand that. But people who are in it for the long haul, they get to see the layers of compassion and love that are borne out of hope that all is not meaningless. Who's the one rambling now? I think my response is just as much inspired by Tim's response as to the post.

Cassandra:

Like you, I know melancholia personally, have for as long as I can remember, and am grateful to live at a time when there are treatments that do not transform it but that take the edge off. And like you, I agree that happiness is overrated--especially if by "happiness" means noise and chatter and activity and laughter. I like such things in small doses, but am perhaps most happy (I usually don't think in such terms--I prefer to think about whether I am flourishing) with a book in a quiet shady spot in summer with people I love and whom I do not need to impress nearby.

In many ways I came to faith more drawn by the beauty of God and Scripture and art and creation than by its truth, though that was part of it too. And that is what continues to draw me farther in, to use C. S. Lewis' phrase. It is at the heart of my hope as a believers, too.

In Melancholia, Lars von Trier does not find hope in beauty any more than he does in truth (which is presented as doubtful) or love (which is shown to be sadly insufficient) or relationships (which are revealed as horribly dysfunctional or sentimentally small). Often after I see a very good film, like this one, I wish I could meet the director and talk--to say thank you for their hard work and art, and to ask a couple of questions. When I saw Melancholia I did not have that desire, and wondered if maybe it is because I get the sense that von Trier has chosen not to believe, that maybe there is a bit hardness of heart involved.

I pray I am wrong.
Warmly
Denis

It was good, but there was alot more they should have done to make it more realistic. For instance, if this were coming to happen a planet that close of that size would dismantle the earth way before it even hit, huge tidal waves, earthquakes, they could've done more is all.

Anonymous:
You are of course correct.
I took the film to be not an exposition of what this event would be like but an exploration of human life and relationships in the face of knowing the world was about to end. From that perspective, the planet was merely a metaphor for the deeper, bigger issue.

You raise an interesting aesthetic question: how realistic does a film need to be in order to tell a compelling story? The debate continues!

Thanks
Denis

Since Death comes to everyone and the universe eventually, I can remember times when the sudden end of everything (with enough time to prepare a 'party' or gathering of friends etc. and hopefully minimal time in physically suffering the event) may actually hold some appeal to some people, as a form of relief from suffering without the thoughts of how to suicide or worrying about 'leaving your loved ones behind'. Finally, there's something really exciting happening. I thought the final scene was such a great and inspiring idea. I have been living with 'life threatening/terminal illness' for so many years now, if I can't get a local railway service put on soon, while I can still walk, this sounds much better than watching the last remaining people that are left in my life, die from cancer and heart attacks.