How to Sell Antichrist

A couple of weeks ago I gave you an interview with the incredible poster artist Tyler Stout, sparking a debate which is still going on. Some of the more moronic among you seem to think you’re experts on film posters, and know how they should or shouldn’t be designed in order to sell a film – which is besides the point and kind of irrelevant to Tyler’s work. Still, it got me thinking about some of my favourite posters this year, and seeing as three of them have been for the same film – Lars von Trier’s Antichrist – I thought I’d investigate further, and talk to some REAL experts (i.e. not you) about how Antichrist was sold around the world.

For those who haven’t seen the film, or read the endless press about it, all you need to know is that there’s a talking fox and someone’s vagina gets decapitated. It caused a big old hoo-ha in Cannes when it was first screened in May, and was immediately bought for distribution here in Britain by Artificial Eye, who managed to get it passed uncut by the censors.

The poster Artificial Eye used to sell the film, featuring Willem Dafoe and Charlotte Gainsbourg having sex, ran in the Times, the Guardian and the Independent, and was investigated by the Advertising Standards Authority after a bunch of people complained it was pornographic, offensive, and inappropriate to be published in a newspaper which could be seen by children. The ASA spoke to Artificial Eye, then released a statement: “The ad, which had a dark tone, was unlikely to cause sexual excitement and was therefore not pornographic,” it read. “We were of the view that the Times, the Guardian and the Independent were read mostly by adults, and although the possibility of children seeing the ad in those publications could not be ruled out, we considered it unlikely. If children did see the ad, we considered it was not particularly explicit and the dream-like context, introduced by the hands protruding from the tree (or roots), had the effect of making the image of the naked couple seem removed from reality.”

I spoke to Debbie Rowland, marketing manager at Artificial Eye, about the development of the poster and subsequent controversy.

Vice: Did the poster come from [Lars von Trier's production company] Zentropa? 
Debbie Rowland: No, it was from the international sales image they provided. We bought the film hot off the hype in Cannes, and realised we’d have to exploit this hot property and release it pretty soon afterwards; we set a release date for about eight weeks. So purely to save time we used the international artwork.

How does that process work? Do they give you ready-made posters to work with?
No, they have their own artwork to sell the film internationally, then it’s up to each territory to see if that artwork will fit the film in their country, or whether something else would be more appropriate. We felt the image was extreme in nature, but so is the film, and it really did reflect that. We didn’t want to kid anybody into thinking it was a romantic comedy or a gruesome horror. And the image does have a shock factor.

So you knew it would be provocative?
Certainly.

So you weren’t surprised when people complained?
We were a little bit surprised, because, like I say, it did reflect the film, and we thought the people who made the decision to advertise the film would expect an image in keeping with that. What we did was develop an alternative campaign in case people did find the image offensive. For example, when we were booking the campaign in the broadsheets, we gave them the choice of the two, and in each case they chose the original campaign artwork. On the Underground it was too strong; we did submit the art to them and they said no. I think the only thing they cleared was the tree. So that was when we developed an alternative poster, using the quotes, and we thought we could use that if anyone found the print campaign offensive.

How was it working with the ASA? What process did you have to go through?
I wrote a memo to defend the campaign, and said that the publications we’d advertised in were publications read by our target audience, fans of Lars von Trier and of quality arthouse independent films; they certainly weren’t publications we considered to be read by children. And we explained that we gave the publications the choice of artwork, that we were mindful of the fact that people might find it controversial.

Do you know if this image had different reactions in different countries?
I’m not sure… it all depends on how you want to portray the film. France went with quite a beautiful image of Charlotte Gainsbourg, that didn’t hint at the shocking elements of the film, but that obviously appealed to the audience they were trying to reach.

In contrast to the pretty French poster, we have Australia. Jeremy Saunders grew up in the Cotswolds, but now lives in Sydney, where he designs film posters for a living. Jeremy aims to always inspire a “sense of excitement or intrigue from his work”, and says he’ll do anything to avoid the “actor” poster. For Antichrist, he went for something very simple, yet highly effective and iconic.

VICE: Why you were asked to create a new poster for the Australian release, as opposed to using pre-existing international art?
Jeremy Saunders: It’s pretty standard, at least with Transmission (the local distributor of Antichrist), that if they’re not 100% happy with the international art – which, as the name suggests, is usually a pretty bland amalgam suitable for everyone and tailored for no-one – they’ll give me a ring and see if I want to knock out a couple of alternatives for them. And because they’re nice people and buy interesting films, I usually agree. It’s not that rare a state of affairs, particularly for art house stuff, unlike blockbusters that generally have a universal branding.

I read that Andrew Mackie at Transmission told you, “I just want something Polish.” What do you interpret that as shorthand for?
Basically, something he would hang on his wall! He’s got a large collection of Polish posters… I took that to mean that I should just go crazy and do whatever came to mind rather than worrying about all the usual marketing bullshit.

Had you seen the film before you designed the poster?
Okay, confession time. I was leaving to go on holiday the next day and I got the call about 10.30am. I got the images about 11am and it was print-ready by about 2.30pm. So, no, I didn’t actually have time to watch the film, I’m ashamed to admit. Having seen the film since, a couple of times, there’s no way I’d have done that poster for it. It doesn’t really embrace the themes or the tone, it’s just about the Cannes controversy. But, you know, it really did a good job in raising awareness, so that was a valuable and surprising lesson to learn about poster design (even after all this time), that it kind of doesn’t need to be within the film, it can just be ABOUT the film; it can be a bit more “meta” and still work.

I didn’t really have any idea of the tone of the film when I did it (I think that’s pretty apparent), although I did read one of those Sight and Sound-type synopses where they tell you everything that happens, so I was up on the plot and the themes. I do love Lars von Trier’s films. I like anything that makes me think or challenges me to feel something.

Obviously the scissors idea came straight from the genital mutilation scene, but can you elaborate more on the visual idea?
Well, it’s a pretty simple idea, really, in that the act of sex between the two leads is the catalyst of their horror (at the beginning of the film), leading to the genital mutilation scene at the end, and the idea that it’s sort of this continual attempt to reconnect and bond and become one again that is actually killing them. Every time they have sex, some sort of primal horror is unleashed. So the heads on the scissor handles felt right. You know, when they kiss – snip! I’ve no idea where it came from, but it provokes a really strong visceral response.

What was your goal with the poster? What did you want to convey/communicate?
Other than the highfalutin’ nonsense above, the real message was: THIS IS THAT ANTICHRIST MOVIE. YOU KNOW THE ONE. WITH THE CLITORIS AND THE SCISSORS. We discussed that it was unlikely that people would be in any way undecided about whether or not to see Antichrist in advance of release, and we shouldn’t try to charm people in or deceive them. My job was just to let people who were going to see it know that it was knocking around, and that they weren’t going to see Hannah Montana by mistake.

Did you anticipate controversy from the poster?
Not really. It’s just a poster. I was really thrilled with it, so I probably rather foolishly popped it on my Facebook page and then went on holiday. A few days later I turned on my laptop and it felt like everything had gone a bit crazy. It had spread all over the place. My website was down due to bandwidth-breaking visits, I was getting job offers via Twitter and all sort of nonsense was afoot. So I spent the next few days excitedly egosurfing from beside the pool. I did see someone on some internet forum apologising for the poster on behalf of the Australian nation. That made my year.

Finally, at the end of September, a new, very different and very beautiful Antichrist poster appeared, advertising the screening at Fantastic Fest in the US. David V. D’Andrea is an illustrator in Oakland, California who mostly works on live music posters and album covers. This is his first film poster.

Vice: How did this come about for you?
David V. D’Andrea: I was approached by a curator who assigns the Alamo Drafthouse [the Austin, Texas cinema chain] poster jobs. He thought my aesthetic would fit the movie well. The showing was the US premiere and was part of the Fantastic Film Fest.

Had you seen the film before you designed it?
The poster was for the US debut, so no, unfortunately I wasn’t able to see it beforehand. I scoured the internet for whatever I could find at that point. It had shown at Cannes so there were already a lot of reviews and fan conversations going around. I was able to find some lengthy clips, the trailer, stills, and interviews, etc. I could see that there was some talk of a cult classic, and some total disdain, but I had no idea that the film was going to receive as much attention as it has.

Have you seen it now? Do you think your art is a good representation of the film?
I watched it about three weeks ago. If anything, I think I would have gone a bit darker overall, but I am happy with my representation. It may have been for the best because nature isn’t inherently “dark”, but the movie is so disturbing that, had I seen it, it would have been tempting to concentrate on the more shocking scenes rather than the overall feeling of a dark force lurking beneath the surface. Because I had only seen a limited amount of material at the time, I was forced to speculate a bit, which may have been a good thing.

Were you briefed at all?
There was not much art direction involved, although my sketches did have to be approved by the movie studio. I was told that I could not render a likeness of either human actor due to copyrights. Luckily, the three animal actors were fair game! Press shots of each animal were actually presented alongside the stills of the actors. I thought this was fantastic.

What was your inspiration for the poster?
I went for a black and white natural history illustration aesthetic, turn-of-the-century textbook style, highly detailed but slightly naive. I wanted to juxtapose the peaceful nature scene with a chaotic colour background. To give subtle hints of an underlying sinister force; there are semi-abstract carvings on the birch trees, pills scattered on the ground, etc. The type layout is a reference to the images that Dafoe finds in the attic, the medieval witch-burning stuff. The quote “Nature is Satan’s Church” is so incredible, I just really wanted to use it.

Finally, kids, I’ll leave you with the poster for the upcoming game of the film, called Eden. Yes, the game. I shit you not. Sweet dreams.