Baraka (1992)

    14 months.  24 countries.  6 continents.  Sounds like a shoot I’d like to be on.  From the cinematographer of Koyaanisqatsi (1982), John Fricke, comes a similar visual exploration of the diversity across our planet.  From the sky grabbing towers of American cities to the full-body Yakuza tattoos seen in Japanese bathhouses, from lines of yellow taxis stretching into infinity to the stars sweeping across the sky.  We’ve gotten used to the moving camera time-lapse shots that run rampant on Vimeo, but here, they hold a power not reached by current video professionals.  Perhaps the 70mm (i.e. 8K UDHD master) adds a degree of scope not available to anyone with a limited checkbook.  And unlike most 5-minute videos that occupy the internet, Baraka is infinitely mesmerizing.  Little yellow chicks flow like water through a conveyer belt and shoot system.  Hoards of travelers ascend escalators.  Clouds ooze over mountaintops and forests.
    The film appears to be about our relationship with world.  And by us I mean humans, seen here in all shapes, colors, attire, environments, comfort, and age.  Both staged and observational, the countless cultures around the world are immortalized before the camera’s eye.  They manage to interact, or rather exist, in seeming harmony.  Yet the film is one of contradictions.  The mass-produced mechanical repetition of electronics and food soon becomes a montage of bodies sleeping on the streets, of lonely children, of prostitution.  What was first a natural world of immense waterfalls and rainforests has become very unnatural.
    It’s unclear just how judgmental this film is.  While outwardly beautiful, the context is often darkly unfortunate.  Fiery inferno’s flare into the sky across vast oil fields where burned out vehicles are scattered like tombstones. 
    The music is appropriately haunting, at times full and at times empty, yet always capturing the magnificent scope of the visuals involved.  This is a cinematic world lost in much of today’s computer generated foreplay. Everything here is real and amazing be it man-made or natural.  The film lends equal attention to that which is beautiful regardless of its origin.  It treats the absurdity of the world’s religions with equal interest and observation.  We are all different but we are all the same.
    It’s pretty easier to look for some deeper meaning and universal context to the film.  And there is certainly no reason not to.  It is equally easy to let go of any rhyme or reason and allow the visuals to play out, to live out, and to build something bigger.