Without words, cameras show us the world, with an emphasis not on “where,” but on “what’s there.” It begins with morning, natural landscapes and people at prayer: volcanoes, water falls, veldts, and forests; several hundred monks do a monkey chant. Indigenous peoples apply body paint; whole villages dance. The film moves to destruction of nature via logging, blasting, and strip mining. Images of poverty, rapid urban life, and factories give way to war, concentration camps, and mass graves. Ancient ruins come into view, and then a sacred river where pilgrims bathe and funeral pyres burn. Prayer and nature return. A monk rings a huge bell; stars wheel across the sky. –IMDb
Ron Fricke is an American film director and cinematographer, considered to be a master of time-lapse photography and large format cinematography. He was the director of photography for Koyaanisqatsi (1982) and directed the purely cinematic non-verbal non-narrative feature Baraka (1992). He designed and used his own 70mm camera equipment for Baraka and his later projects. He also directed the IMAX films Chronos (1985) and Sacred Site (1986). His most recent work was as cinematographer for parts of the film Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (he was hired to shoot the eruption of Mt Etna in Sicily for use in scenes of the volcanic planet Mustafar). The sequel to Baraka, Samsara, is currently in production. —wikipedia
This film has ruined all others for me. How do i return to a regular film now without thinking it pointless, unconvincing and utterly trivial, after witnessing the majesty which is Baraka. I cannot. Baraka shows our world in all it's glory, all it's beauty and horror. This is all real and in stunning clarity. How can any fictional film ever hope to compare?
This is a well-loved film, a treasure for many, and probably a profound experience of art for some. "Stunning" is the obvious but appropriate cliche -- unavoidable, really -- to use when describing Baraka's visuals -- wonders bearing news of the world's wonders. More's the pity, then, that those same wonders are sunk beneath the ponderous weight of the film's pious, self-satisfied romance of the reified primitive.
It’s like KOYANISQATSI, except this is better. And also has awesome music.
Okay, so here’s how it is…
Imagine the world’s greatest visual essay on how people, nature, and the landscapes… read review