The American Dream discombobulated

Do you hate America? Does the prospect of watching an innocent woman tortured over the course of nearly three hours appeal to you? Are you a sadomasochist? If you can answer yes to any of the aforementioned questions, then perhaps "Dogville" is your cup of toxic tea. All others need not apply.\nDanish Dogme designer and didactic director Lars von Trier ("Breaking the Waves," "Dancer in the Dark") returns with another yarn of the oft-suffering heroine. Only this time, he sets his sights beyond merely debasing women, opting instead to skewer democracy, capitalism and the U.S. as a whole. Funnily enough, Trier has never even set foot on American soil due to his immense fear of flight.\n"Dogville" is the story of Grace (the always lovely and rarely braver Nicole Kidman), a woman on the run from the mob (spearheaded by James Caan), who stumbles into the titular town. Here, she meets Thomas Edison Jr. (Paul Bettany), a wannabe writer and the community's self-appointed moral compass. The none-too-subtly named Tom takes an immediate shine to the even less subtly named Grace. In doing so, he coerces his friends, family and neighbors into providing refuge for the wanted woman; she in turn becomes the citizens' (among them all-star character actors Lauren Bacall, Philip Baker Hall, Stellan Skarsgård, Patricia Clarkson, Ben Gazzara, Jeremy Davies and Chloë Sevigny) indentured servant. \nThis is all good and well, until, the authority's pursuit of Grace grows more heated, and Dogville's denizens demand a better deal, i.e. more work, less pay. Inevitably, poor Grace becomes the town's whipping post/scapegoat, and an onslaught of degradation ensues. She's raped by nearly every man in town and is later made to wear a makeshift dog collar of sorts to keep her from escaping. Suffice it to say, the enterprise, while masterfully crafted and acted, is a smidgen hard to sit through -- especially, at its exorbitant three-hour runtime.\nHonestly, and this reflects poorly upon me as a critic, I fell asleep for about 15 minutes an hour into the film. What with its lack of sets (the entire thing was shot upon a sound stage with white and black sheets suggesting night and day and chalk outlines serving as houses) and music (the only song highlight was the appreciated but inappropriate use of David Bowie's "Young Americans" over the ending credits), I got a tad bored. Both you and I realize that mankind can, at times, be inherently evil, and such wrongdoing isn't exclusive to Americans alone. We don't need an overly long reinterpretation of "Our Town," which might as well be redubbed "Our Hell," to tell us so. Trier has made a provocative powder keg of a film that poses, then disposes of, some interesting ideas. There's something to be said for this, as few filmmakers have the balls to look beyond the bottom-line. It's just too bad that we, the audience, ultimately feel like Grace, trapped and abused amid the ugliness of "Dogville." Lars would have it no other way.