This may very well be the worst thing I will ever write: a completely artless review with no sense of direction or control. It will not come anywhere near doing justice to the extraordinary film it is praising, and so any kind of forced rhetorical flourish here would be perfunctory and out-of-place. So I apologise in advance. I can only do my best.
'Samsara' (which, if IMDb is to be believed, is a Sanskrit word meaning 'cyclic existence') contains almost not a word of dialogue, and certainly not in any kind of 'narrative' sense. It belongs to a very small niche of films, often given the name of 'pure cinema'. The only films I can even compare 'Samsara' to, however, are a select few that our director, Ron Fricke, has previously worked on: those past masterpieces 'Koyaanisqatsi', 'Chronos' and 'Baraka'. All are utterly distinctive pieces of cinema in their own right, and this new release is no different.
How can I describe 'Samsara'? In cliché, as a profound visual experience? I may have to resort to that later, to even give an inkling of how powerful this film is. As a compilation of stunningly photographed images and sequences, set to a haunting, disconcertingly calculated soundtrack? I refuse to describe any of those images here; it would be a betrayal on my part. They must be witnessed for themselves. Maybe then as a philosophical work? Indeed, I cannot argue with the fact that the philosophical issues it raises are some of the most important facing mankind. I do not and will not pretend to understand everything shown in 'Samsara'; I firmly believe that a viewer cannot actually understand the entire film in any concrete way. That is not to say that, throughout much of the film, we are not intended to feel shame, or guilt, or awe, or reverence. Ron Fricke is not a man without an opinion, and this film is underpinned all the way through with the wealth of emotion that this person feels in considering the world we live in. But he does not preach. His choice of images is subjective, but he raises questions. He does not give answers.
'Samsara' is a film of vast ambition and deep humility. Its aim is no less than exploring the blunt fact of human existence on a wondrous Earth with a selective, but passionate and observant eye, and the societies we have created and separated into, the effect our existence has on the world around us. Yet even this description is reductive. The film's profundity lies in its interaction with the audience. It is a film from which you take away what you have put in. The richness of your experience when viewing 'Samsara' relies heavily on how willing you are to go along with it and recognise what Fricke is trying to show us. Your reaction to it is your own affair, but you will have a reaction. The accumulation of these emotional responses is what makes this film so utterly unforgettable; and indeed, perhaps this is the real reason that this kind of movie is considered to be 'pure cinema'. Because, after all, film (usually) succeeds when it successfully provokes a series of emotional reactions in an audience, and their accumulation. Rarely has a film so perfectly and forcefully played on that fact than 'Samsara'.
It has taken five years of painstaking work to make this film. The love and passion that has gone into its production pours from every image, every carefully composed shot and forcefully edited sequence. I have never sat in a cinema before to watch a new release and witnessed the reaction that 'Samsara' provoked among a cinema audience. The screen went black, the credits began to roll, and the room burst into applause. How could it not do? I sincerely doubt that such a disturbing and rapturous meditation on our planet has been produced before now (and here I consider Baraka, Chronos and Koyaanisqatsi as companion pieces to Samsara, even though they retain their own remarkable individuality).
I came out of the weekend screening of this film knowing three things. The first, that this is the reason I go to the cinema – to witness and experience emotions like that, to witness the reaction of an audience completely bowled over by what they have just seen, especially when we believe we have seen it all, that cinema has nothing new to offer. The second, that I would be paying to see it again on Tuesday. And the third? That 'Samsara', without a shadow of a doubt, is the best film of the year.
'Samsara' (which, if IMDb is to be believed, is a Sanskrit word meaning 'cyclic existence') contains almost not a word of dialogue, and certainly not in any kind of 'narrative' sense. It belongs to a very small niche of films, often given the name of 'pure cinema'. The only films I can even compare 'Samsara' to, however, are a select few that our director, Ron Fricke, has previously worked on: those past masterpieces 'Koyaanisqatsi', 'Chronos' and 'Baraka'. All are utterly distinctive pieces of cinema in their own right, and this new release is no different.
How can I describe 'Samsara'? In cliché, as a profound visual experience? I may have to resort to that later, to even give an inkling of how powerful this film is. As a compilation of stunningly photographed images and sequences, set to a haunting, disconcertingly calculated soundtrack? I refuse to describe any of those images here; it would be a betrayal on my part. They must be witnessed for themselves. Maybe then as a philosophical work? Indeed, I cannot argue with the fact that the philosophical issues it raises are some of the most important facing mankind. I do not and will not pretend to understand everything shown in 'Samsara'; I firmly believe that a viewer cannot actually understand the entire film in any concrete way. That is not to say that, throughout much of the film, we are not intended to feel shame, or guilt, or awe, or reverence. Ron Fricke is not a man without an opinion, and this film is underpinned all the way through with the wealth of emotion that this person feels in considering the world we live in. But he does not preach. His choice of images is subjective, but he raises questions. He does not give answers.
'Samsara' is a film of vast ambition and deep humility. Its aim is no less than exploring the blunt fact of human existence on a wondrous Earth with a selective, but passionate and observant eye, and the societies we have created and separated into, the effect our existence has on the world around us. Yet even this description is reductive. The film's profundity lies in its interaction with the audience. It is a film from which you take away what you have put in. The richness of your experience when viewing 'Samsara' relies heavily on how willing you are to go along with it and recognise what Fricke is trying to show us. Your reaction to it is your own affair, but you will have a reaction. The accumulation of these emotional responses is what makes this film so utterly unforgettable; and indeed, perhaps this is the real reason that this kind of movie is considered to be 'pure cinema'. Because, after all, film (usually) succeeds when it successfully provokes a series of emotional reactions in an audience, and their accumulation. Rarely has a film so perfectly and forcefully played on that fact than 'Samsara'.
It has taken five years of painstaking work to make this film. The love and passion that has gone into its production pours from every image, every carefully composed shot and forcefully edited sequence. I have never sat in a cinema before to watch a new release and witnessed the reaction that 'Samsara' provoked among a cinema audience. The screen went black, the credits began to roll, and the room burst into applause. How could it not do? I sincerely doubt that such a disturbing and rapturous meditation on our planet has been produced before now (and here I consider Baraka, Chronos and Koyaanisqatsi as companion pieces to Samsara, even though they retain their own remarkable individuality).
I came out of the weekend screening of this film knowing three things. The first, that this is the reason I go to the cinema – to witness and experience emotions like that, to witness the reaction of an audience completely bowled over by what they have just seen, especially when we believe we have seen it all, that cinema has nothing new to offer. The second, that I would be paying to see it again on Tuesday. And the third? That 'Samsara', without a shadow of a doubt, is the best film of the year.