A soundtrack plays folk rock as a woman prepares, at noon, to take her Borzois for a walk. She goes through her dresses, all 1920's style flapper gowns, holding them one at a time, shaking ... See full summary »
A group of people are standing in a straight line along the platform of a railway station, waiting for a train, which is seen coming at some distance. When the train stops at the platform, ... See full summary »
A depiction of life in wartime England during the Second World War. Director Humphrey Jennings visits many aspects of civilian life and of the turmoil and privation caused by the war, all without narration.
An army of gay/nazi bikers make their engines roar and ride the way to pain/pleasure as sexual and sadistic symbols are intercut into the dazing chaos and rhythmic experiences of this ... See full summary »
The impact of the decline of heavy industry on workers and their families in the Tiexi district of Shenyang, China, at the turn of the 21st century, documented unflinchingly by a fly-on-the-wall camera.
The cinema feels invaded by Peter Kubelka's "Arnulf Rainer". It's less like watching a film than watching a predator at a mysterious zoo. The strobing of black and white frames and electronic scratches is a minimal set of variables but evokes a seizing presence, a greedy indurate screeching that sucks all the light out of the cinema as it recedes. This quasar creature is practically oracular, chawing untranslatable screams. A gradually increasing battering of the eyeballs fed me dancing rectangular phosphors and reticulated patterns appearing inside a tear, though physically all that happens is an alternation of black and white (a true black produced by the expunging of white).
The Austrian artist Arnulf Rainer, appeared as the subject of Kubelka's film Pause! and was fascinated by destruction and the atom bomb so it's not entirely lateral thinking for it to be dedicated to him. You could say perhaps that the result of both Pause! and "Arnulf Rainer" though antipodean in technique, is to record episodes of self-sensate mania.
It's important to add that the exhibition space is important for this piece of work. I've seen it in two cinemas, and it had far more effect in the first, which was cosier, and had less distracting lighting (exit signs and such). Since I first wrote about this I've realised that Kubelka designed the Invisible Cinema in New York, where there was no light source except the screen, and each viewer sat in a black velvet lined cubicle unable to view any of the other patrons. Kubelka was definitely aware of the power of the environment to distract!
3 of 8 people found this review helpful.
Was this review helpful to you?