From a murky landscape, a wooded mountain emerges. We watch the sun. We see a bearded man climbing up the mountain through the snow. He carries an ax, and he's accompanied by a dog. His ...
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A man, accompanied by a dog, struggles through snow on a mountain side. We see film stock blister; drawn square shapes appear. Then, we see an infant's face. The images of struggling ... See full summary »
A man is supine on a mountain side. Images rush past of nature and a stained glass saint. An infant is born. We see a lactating nipple. Images include a mountain peak, farm buildings, a ... See full summary »
Sexual intimacy. Three kinds of images race past, superimposed on each other sometimes: two bodies, a man and a woman's, close up, nude - patches of skin, wisps of hair, glimpses of a face ... See full summary »
Images of two women, two men, and a gray cat form a montage of rapid bits of movement. A woman is in a bedroom, another wears an apron: they work with their hands, occasionally looking up. ... See full summary »
A visual representation, in four parts, of one man's internalization of "The Divine Comedy." Hell is a series of multicolored brush strokes against a white background; the speed of the ... See full summary »
We see a film negative of a nude couple embracing in bed. Then, back in regular black and white images, we see them alone and together, clothed, at home. It's night, she sees his reflection... See full summary »
From a murky landscape, a wooded mountain emerges. We watch the sun. We see a bearded man climbing up the mountain through the snow. He carries an ax, and he's accompanied by a dog. His labors continue. There is no soundtrack. Images rush past - water, trees, and surfaces too close up to distinguish. He struggles. A fire burns. Nature, in long shots and magnified, is formidable and silent. It's tough going; he carries on. In a capillary, blood flows. Written by
...a flash of memory still burning a final design into my retinas...
This is not a "movie" in any hollywood-sense.
Close your eyes, watch as the patterns emerge from the darkness, slip in a few memory stills from the movie of your life, make the white noise as silent as possible in your cranium (no sound in this movie at all, unless your vcr makes a hissing noise), take this seemingly unreal experience and transpose it to film, scratch the film with forks, burn it with lighters, paint on the film, crinkle it, twist it, swallow it whole the way the tibetans swallow strips of cloth to clean their intestines, wash it, reel it and see the movie of your dreams.
"great" isn't good enough. This film goes off the scale, as we mere humans have no method of measuring the value of such an experience. If I had 30 thumbs they would all be up. If I had to choose from 1 to five stars, I would have to obliterate the stars, turn them into black holes, wait til a few more stars gather round and post them all right here for the world to see::::::::>
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