Baraka
Starring: Stern looking tribal people, the Himalayas, Western destruction
Treatment written and directed by: Ron Fricke
I was recommended Baraka by a friend, who when discussing the film said it would be better viewed if my mind was,
ahem, somewhat altered by inhaled illegal substances. In the end, though, the film was trippy and mind-expanding enough on its own. I have a feeling that if I'd been hitting the Mary Jane while watching this, a fuse could very well have blown.
Baraka is a Sufi word meaning "breath of life," and the maxim was a muse of sorts for Ron Fricke's legendary, dialogue-less documentary. With cinematography befitting a National Geographic magazine, Fricke captures scenes of spirituality, naturalism and destruction with luscious grandeur. There are no statements made, no interviews, no real description of where, exactly, Fricke takes us. But in the end all of these things are unnecessary. It's a film entirely about the visual, about what we as an audience feel when we view the images.
There is the auditory as well, including haunting music composed by Michael Stearns as well as strictly non-verbal sounds of the world Fricke displays. They're carefully orchestrated together, whirling into a symphony between the diegetic and non-diegetic until it's almost impossible to tell which is which. I'm still ruminating over the uber-trippy scene in which a nameless tribe chants and dances before giant stone idols somewhere in the depths of a rain forest. Through their dance they merge as if into one being, an undulating creature in complete prostration before the god they're worshipping. I've never seen anything quite like it.
There's also a heavy component of environmentalism in Baraka; breathtaking scenes of mountains and happy furry woodland creatures are interspersed with acts of human destruction: rain forests are cut down, fires rage, and, in one famous scene, harmless male chicks are thrown down a bottomless funnel (only female chicks are needed for the industrial production of eggs.) You wouldn't be entirely wrong is saying it's a little heavy-handed, but it's effective nonetheless.
In the end, the film is about our connections, both to those around us, to the world at large, and to our god, whomever or whatever that may be. One affecting shot shows a city at rush hour, time-lapsed so both people and cars race along at super-human speeds. They look like ants, it occurred to me. Then I corrected myself.
We looks like ants. We are not all that significant, in the end, and while we go about our busy, falsely important lives we often lose the big picture.
You don't need to be toking to get that.
