A number of years ago, I attended an exhibition at a renovated, cavernous railroad terminal which had been made into an exhibition and performance facility. There was a show which featured avant-garde art, films, and the "headliner" was Charlotte Moorman. At that time, probably in her mid- to late-30's, Ms. Moorman, a Julliard post-grad alum and concert cellist, had earlier made a name for herself by playing in a concert topless. She was briefly arrested for this and given probation. (I've always pictured how this must have actually been quite fascinating - since she was a "busty" lady, I imagined that she had to be very deft, and careful, in moving the bow across the strings to avoid injury to herself.)
She had then become described as a performer of the "mixed-media" genre, and as a performance artist. I swear, her performance that day was exactly as I describe (I'll certainly never forget it; my mouth wouldn't close until hours later).
First, she destroyed an in-tact piano. An assistant handed her a full-size sledge hammer, and she beat-the-hell out of the instrument (she swung the tool as deftly as Alan Ladd and Van Helfin swung their axes removing a stump early during "Shane"). Then, the assistant handed her a small, hand-held sledge, with which she pulverized the smaller components which her larger tool had dislodged from the instrument.
This accomplished, the assistant now brought her cello and a very large burlap sack. She was wearing a long dress, and proceeded to lie on the floor, crawl completely within the sack, and draw her cello into it. For about five or ten minutes, she wriggled, totally hidden within, stuck an arm out, drew it back in, and did likewise with a stockinged leg. Finally she played some notes (no more than 5 or 6), and you could see the movement of her bow and the outline of the instrument. What she played was not particularly tuneful. She then emerged from the sack, her assistant took same and the cello/bow, and she took a bow as if she had just completed a concerto. And, she did not crack even a semblance of a smile during any of these proceedings.
I'm not an exceptional storyteller, but I promise what I've just described will make more sense, and be more logical to your understanding, than this movie. Strangely, though, in its pretentious, vague, incomprehensible way, this duo-titled flick holds a weird sort of fascination - as did Ms. Moorman's performance. I advise viewing it, just so you can say you did. I'm not sure I'd give it 5 stars; I'd rate it 4-1/2, but since this site does not utilize "halves," let's call it a "4." And I think its fascination may be a bit greater now, than it would have been in an earlier viewing, since nearly a quarter century has elapsed since its filming.
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