Chronos

Comparisons between "Chronos" (1985) and "Koyanisqaatsi "(1982) are rather inevitable. Both films were written and shot by Ron Fricke, who also directed "Chronos." (Godfrey Reggio directed "Koyanisqaatsi"). Both films are filled with richly poetic images of pristine natural settings counterpointed with man's intrusion into those settings and the evolution of his civilization. As a great admirer of "Koyanisqaatsi," these commonalities are what drew me recently to watching "Chronos" on HD home video. Unfortunately, the comparisons pretty much end there.

"Chronos" is a much less satisfying undertaking. Not only is it merely half the length of its cult-classic predecessor, but it's less than half the film in terms of ambition and coherent vision as well. Whereas "Koyanisqaatsi" had a strong (some would say heavy-handed) political and philosophical message concerning man's corrupting - even diabolical - impact on the globe, "Chronos" doesn't seem to have much point at all behind its slide show alternation of natural and man-made imagery.

To be fair, the film does clearly communicate the notion that the relatively short history of human civilization has bequeathed many majestically beautiful works of art and other grand artifacts, from awe-inspiring pyramids and cathedrals to the great sprawling cities of the world like New York and Paris. Yet, if the point of the film was in part to redress the extremely negative view of man's "progress" delivered by "Koyanisqaatsi," it just doesn't come across very strongly. And, if re-balancing was the point, then what is the audience supposed to make of the frequent used of accelerated motion that suggests to me not only the passage of time alluded to in the film's title but also that man's course has been too rapid and perhaps reckless? It just doesn't add up.

Like "Koyanisqaatsi," "Chronos" relies entirely on image and music to structure its minimal narrative. Neither film offers plot or character in a conventional sense, but "Koyanisqaatsi" manages nevertheless to forge drama by progressively intensifying the conflict of its man versus nature imagery. "Koyanisqaatsi" also benefits from a much more powerful score and from its Native American titular keyword, chanted repeatedly as a choral expression of the film's simple but abstract theme that indeed "life is out of balance." "Chronos" could definitely have benefited from similar devices to give its imagery thrust and significance.

Instead, "Chronos" is essentially a glorified image music piece. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Many of its images are arresting and some - like the city nightscapes - are breathtaking. Though I think not part of its intent, "Chronos" also offers parlor-game amusement for anyone trying to identify the cornucopia of natural, artistic, and architectural wonders that pour past one's eyes. All in all, the film is a pleasurable but forgettable viewing experience.

This film is one of the most exquisite films I have ever seen. It is comprised completely of time-lapse and aerial photography, and is a tremendous accomplishment. Highly recommended for anyone interested in time-lapse photography, cinematography, or film making in general.

This is a 42-minute different kind of travelogue, showing various places around the world with no narration and, in some cases, speeded-up photography. In other cases - mainly the beginning - it's ultra-slow. To be honest, I like that fast-forward technique far more, such as where you see clouds and shadows moving by quickly. They move by landscapes, famous monuments and other building and even over art work. Other scenes area also run by quickly; usually when people are in the picture.

Later, the speed is accelerated even more. Now people are just a blur. Still later, it's done differently with stop-action-type motion. Filming locations mainly are in the Southwest United States, New York City, Egypt, France and Italy.

A few segments, such as those early ones in Egypt are way too slow but others are beautiful and fascinating. Some of these shots almost look computer-made, but they are real. The movie reminded me of "Koyaanisqati," but this is far better, in my opinion.

There is no dialog in this short film. I've seen this three times and enjoyed it each time, although by now I am bored by the slow scenes. My favorites are ultra-speedy traffic parts. If you are looking something different, check it out.

I was fortunate to see the movie in HD on cable recently. The movie is a bit like Koyaanisqatsi but concentrates more on a aesthetic look and does not transmit a political message. The images are astonishingly beautiful. The use of quick-motion and time lapse is great and give the film a very nice artistic touch. The electronic score composed by Michael Stearns accompanies the corresponding footage very smooth and nicely and adds to the overall atmosphere. If you like movies like Baraka or Koyaanisqatsi this movie is a absolute must-see. The photography and composition of this movie is just mesmerizing and brilliant.

This is somewhere between documentary and photography. It has neither a script nor actors, and there is no narrator, no interview, and no still images. This is a moving picture, in the purest sense. The major focus is the time lapse cinematography of Ron Fricke, who also serves as director. That, and the soundtrack by Michael Stearns, is the sum total of "Chronos".

There are deeper meanings to some, intended and accidental, but I won't cheapen things by speculating on what those are. The main drive is the battle of slow versus fast, city versus nature. Much of the time lapse goes by at what appears to be the same speed, but what moves blisteringly fast in the city seems to go by without change or notice in nature. Only the slow march of shadows is apparent across rocks and old ruins. These passages are full and heavy with the weight of time. They pull like the moon on the tides, dragging you back into long forgotten history. It comes like a slow, shallow breath between trains hurtling down tracks to uncertain destinations, and the bleeding blur of strangers up escalators.

I've watched "Chronos" in many different contexts. It's been a relaxing background to the end of a long, tired day, or the full focus of my attention as I appreciate its depth of artistry. At forty-three minutes, it's neither too long to drag or too short to feel cut off. Each time after watching it, I find myself out of place with the speed of things around me. I feel the need to step back and breathe, to run faster, to walk slower. Somehow, some way, "Chronos" changed the way I see time.