A comedy-horrifying movie that follows a failed architect named Jack. Jack couldn't find himself in the field of architecture but he found out that he has a big desire for killing. Across twelve years, he did many murders perfectly using his special intelligence.
The House that Jack Built, despite the panic that arose in its wake, is pretty much von Trier's My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, a reckoning between a public persona and the person beneath it.
Lars von Trier is a stupid, arrogant troll and, when the mood strikes him, a reasonably talented filmmaker. But there are only a few moments in "The House That Jack Built" in which his stupidity doesn't entirely overwhelm and negate his talent.
As a longtime admirer of the director's work, I can't quite believe I'm saying this, but the most shocking thing I found about The House That Jack Built is how tedious it is.
Dillon might have trouble putting this one at the top of his resume if he wants to do a Disney film, but there's no question he delivers an impactful movie monster, with darting eyes and a toothy smile that makes Jack at once seem empathetic and bonkers.
If von Trier is instead merely content telling a sick joke - and the soundtrack, including the repeated use of David Bowie's Fame, suggests as much - it leads to a punchline we've all heard before.
