Falconry has an history of at least forty centuries. In the West, it was the favourite sport of the medieval aristocracy, and in contemporary Arab culture its prestige remains unaltered. Yuri Ancarani crosses the Persian Gulf to accompany a falconer to an important competition.
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The desert and the male sporting in competitions.
Clean reasoned balanced shots contrasted by the presentation of rapacious uncontrollable appetite. The simulacrum of a glossy magazine. The soundscape is more interesting than the image composition.
Fantastic visually, but exactly because of it I kept craving for more information and insight. I would've settled for at least a couple of sentences - it could've stayed as poetic, but it would've offered at least a look into their psyche.
Empty of any style: looks like an advertisement for Lamborghini - which perhaps it is. All that is interesting disappeared: the expatriates from asia who serve this golden elites, falconnery as an emblem of prestige, relations of power between the big tribal families competing for symbolic domination through animal sports. And we find ourselves looking to the lives of this elite through their complaisant eyes.
Another reviewer rightly pointed to the simulacrum. Indeed, this initially mesmerizing and hyperreal depiction of an all-male universe captures well the self-referential rituals in a bizarre osmosis of hyperconsumption and tradition. The film, for all its merits, runs dry halfway through the exhaustion of its theme. Anthropologically revealing, cinematically unsure of its intentions. Recommended though.