It feels something but, really, with Trier’s fleet-footed montages, wry voice-in excess of, and ecstatic times of magical realism producing a feeling of an creative work with its arms flung vast open. This is a do the job of art about a get the job done of artwork that can make it distinct that artwork is do the job. It’s a tale of sluggish-boiling grief and shame and the techniques that artwork complicates the way we ponder our have lives.