Koyaanisqatsi (1983)

While it is not a movie to be enjoyed by everyone, or in all situations, Godfrey Reggio's "Koyaanisqati" is a unique, vast, and exhilarating experience. It has no direct narrative and has many different meanings depending on who you ask, and achieves this through brilliant scenery and long shots, as well as a spectacularly done soundtrack. The soundtrack, performed by the Philip Glass Ensemble, compliments the visuals in such a way that the film would feel incomplete and less meaningful without it. Its use of repetition, crescendos, and silence overwhelms the film with intensity and serenity. It stands out to me as one of Koyaanisqatsi's greatest highlights.It can take a certain mindset or amount of patience to appreciate the effect that Reggio sets out to achieve, which is not a complaint but something to take note of. It has its own style that defies what a majority of popular films possess, and by doing so it seems that the film has a message that could be conveyed in no other way; it is designed in a way where it can't necessarily be defined only by words. That, to me, is the true beauty of the film.Overall, Koyaanisqatsi is a fantastic experience that is, while not extremely accessible, quite moving and beautiful in a very particular way. It provides a unique experience and message that proves the film to be well done and worthwhile for anyone to watch.

I first saw this movie when it opened in the theaters, I was blown away by it. The juxtaposition of nature with our human environment and suggesting gently that ours is out of balance, leaves little doubt. But this is for people with more than a little ability at self examination. Without it, the movie makes little sense at all.Now many years later the images remain, stuck in my memory and while this makes a re-viewing of it less than ideal, the message remains. Sadly our human environment has not gotten better, it is worse. Man's inhumanity towards our fellow man has gone to the point where the examples offered by this film pale in comparison. So as a warning it failed.

When I watch "Koyaanisqatsi," I don't want to breath. I don't want to blink. I want to see every frame, every change in its footage of clouds and traffic and bustling people. The intended meanings of Godfrey Reggio's film are suggested in its environmental imagery, in its focus on industrial civilization's high speed and large scale, and by the translation of the title: "life out of balance." But meanings, and the fact that the film's use of raw footage is more propagandistic than documentary, are of secondary concern. "Koyaanisqatsi" is a powerful work of art because is a pure sensory experience. Long cuts of sped-up landscapes and cityscapes are set to a Philip Glass score, and the effect is utterly mesmerizing. The first time I saw it, I only noticed at the end that my hands had been gripping the armrests. Comparing a film to a roller coaster is a cliché, and in this case it doesn't do the film justice; I've been on roller coasters that have less effect on my adrenaline than "Koyaanisqatsi."

There are two ways I can think of to review a movie: The first is to simply describe the movie, the second is to futilely try to analyze the movie.Neither of these options seemed to work on this film, but I was reminded of something: During the American tour for My Bloody Valentine's immensely influential album Loveless, the band experimented with their audiences' ability to sustain music played at high volumes. Critic Mark Kemp said of the tour, "After about thirty seconds the adrenaline set in, people are screaming and shaking their fists. After a minute you wonder what's going on. After another minute it's total confusion. The noise starts hurting. The noise continues. After three minutes you begin to take deep breaths. After four minutes, a calm takes over." This is as good of a review of Koyaanisqatsi as I could think of.