Structured like a deadly repetition compulsion, Lars von Trier’s film Melancholia opens with a sequence of majestic scenes, where already, one can guess the imminent clash of the eponymous planet with ours, the Earth. An analogy is made between the excesses of nature and those of the drives, as everything begins with the revelation of an intolerable knowledge, the cosmic projection of an inner anguish and the anticipation of the end of the world. Death drive: we are tragically preparing to visit a world that is already doomed, deserted by desire. We will turn our attention to identifying and describing the inexorable progress of the infantile drive within the film Melancholia, and to see how Justine, among other representatives, reveals the inescapable catastrophe of the absence of desire. The futility of any attempt to silence the infantile—an unalterable ghost haunting every image, every word, every gesture—will become evident.