It is not every film's job to stimulate you superficially. I will take an ambitious failure over a mass-market hit any day. While this really can't be described as a failure, the sum of its parts remains ambiguous. That indecipherable quality tantalizes me into watching it again and again. This is a challenging, provocative movie that does not wrap things up neatly. The problem with the movie is in its structure. Its inpenetrable plot seems to be winding up, just as a second ending is tacked on. Though everything is technically dazzling, the movie is exactly too long by that unit. The long-delayed climax of Leo's awakening comes about 20 minutes late.
Great cinematography often comes at the expense of a decent script, but here the innovative camera technique offers a wealth of visual ideas. The compositing artifice is provocative and engaging; A character is rear-projected but his own hand in the foreground isn't. The world depicted is deliberate, treacherous and absurd. Keep your eyes peeled for a memorable, technically astonishing assassination that will make your jaw drop.
The compositions are stunning. Whomever chose to release the (out of print) videotape in the pan & scan format must have never seen it. Where is the DVD?
It is unfathomable how anyone could give this much originality a bad review. You should see it at least once. You get the sense that von Trier bit off more than he could chew, but this movie ends up being richer for it. I suspect he is familiar with Hitchcock's Foreign Correspondent in which devious Europeans also manipulate an American dupe and several Welles movies that take delirious joy in technique as much as he does. All von Trier movies explore the plight of the naif amidst unforgiving societies. After Zentropa, von Trier moved away from this type of audacious technical experiment towards dreary, over-rated, un-nuanced sap like Breaking the Waves and Dancer in the Dark.

Ah, the spirit of '68. The streets of Paris were running wild with rebellion, the hippies were high on the spirit of love. How was Britain marking this age of radicalism and revolution? Erm, by the looks of it, dear Old Blighty was focusing on making films about boys in boarding schools. If... contains the evil establishment. It contains the uprising of the oppressed. What it lacks in contrast to the Parisien passion and the hippy headtripping is any sense of excitement, except in its all-out ammo-and-artillery fire ending.
Lindsay Anderson's If... stars the ever-marvellous Malcolm McDowell as one of three private school pupils who decorate their dorm with photos of Lenin and other left-wing radicals. It's clearly an anti-establishment movie in its depiction of the evil upper-class oiks who rule the roost and the antiquated autocratic practices of the pish-posh public school standard. What makes If... unusual though is that for all its radical sympathies, it doesn't explicitly give us any sense of great tension between human decency and the despotic school system, instead it just kind of floats: lacking in plot and lacking in personality.
Surrealist bits fade in and out occasionally and the film slips from black-and-white to colour again (is it due to the low budget or is it an arty expression?), but there is little of interest to speak of. All we get is the poignant denouement where the young rebels reach for their rifles and shoot down the shady overlords of the establishment. Hooray! A revolution! At last something that demands a second thought unlike the rest of this dull exercise in boarding school daydreaming.
If... could have been a powerful political statement, but as it is it drifts and only gathers any sense of direct interest at the end. Instead of being a testament to the dissident zeitgeist of the late-Sixties, it only succeeds in being a dazed document of upper-class British education. Anarchy? Apathy more like, the only man many viewers will want to stick it to after watching If... will be Lindsay Anderson.