For all its good ideas, Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y is underwhelming. It only apprehends the surface of DeLillo's world and its constant dualities (advertising-death; commercial jingles-terrorism). The repetitive montage become overstated and frankly dull way before we reach the end.
Muy interesante documental basado totalmente en material de archivo, magníficamente editado y musicalizado. La película va más allá del tema central, los secuestros de aviones, también es evocación de la guerra fría, una reflexión sobre el personaje del "terrorista" y un pastiche entre trágico y sarcástico del tratamiento mediático que recibieron estas noticias. Recomendable!
Johan Gimonprez's collage of late twentieth-century footage of terrorism and disasters may appear superficial and even exploitative in its frenetic magpie approach, but the melding of violent atrocities with the kitsch music and TV of the time offers an understanding of a wider cultural malaise. And as a philosophical film about media, culture and death, it makes for uncomfortable and provocative viewing.
Tawdry and exploitative. While visually captivating, there is an unpleasant sense that we're being taken on a tour of YouTube clips of death, rather than any proper analysis, or even exposition on the supposed theme of this film. This is brought sharply into focus when we're shown some fatal plane crashes that have no connection to hijacking or terrorism. It lacks credibility. It's little more than 'Faces of Death'.
A visually stunning experimental documentary by Johan Grimonprez eerily foreshadows the events that would come three years later. What the documentary lacks in approach-ability it makes up for in it's innovative style and relentless critique of the desensitization of the press since the Vietnam war. I would recommend this film to those who are looking for a film that stands out among almost all in it's genre.
A film that attempts to use tabloid journalism to refute, eh, the entire media? An anal, bitter, and pretentious film that seems, arrogantly, to suggest that acts of terrorism imitate art. OK, I didn't very much care for the message, but I think the film could have been bearable if the film-maker wasn't so irritating and pretentious. A bitter, repetitive, and annoying attack on the media.
The cult of celebrity and the other trappings of modern capitalism (of which commercial air travel is a very potent symbol) are dealt with by Grimonprez in startling, original ways. We hear the sombre narration of excerpts from Don DeLillo interspersed with pop songs and media interviews. This is all juxtaposed with footage of shocking violence and destruction. Film doesn't get more thought-provoking than this.
"Shouldn't death be a swan dive; graceful, white-winged and smooth?" A gently cheerful narrator muses as footage of a plane makes its descent towards a runway. So begins Dial H-I-S-T-O-R-Y - an experimental documentary that reveals how news media assigned celebrity status upon hijackers in the 1960s and 70s and how their revolutionary zeal emerged energized in Warholian fashion. Eerily made just years before 9/11.