Film Review: Baraka
Images courtesy of Caitlin Petit & Cinema Nova.
Often cited as a sequel of sorts to Koyaanisqatsi (which itself spawned direct sequels in the Qatsi trilogy), Baraka is another non-narrative experimental feature (or as many seem to refer to them online, an "existential documentary"), this time around directed by Ron Fricke, the cinematographer of Koyaanisqatsi. Based on the Sufi term meaning blessing, essence or breath, Baraka focuses less on the industrial conquering of land, instead taking us on a journey to more spiritual and tribalistic corners of the world.
Whereas Koyaa was in part restricted by its lack of funds (produced using $40,000 left over from the budget of the Institute for Regional Education and utilising a fair bit of stock footage), Baraka was a $2 million production. Shot on 70mm, Fricke oversaw the production of a special camera that would allow controlled movement while shooting time lapse footage, and his expertise as cinematographer lends to a cinematic experience that has a consistent visual style, as opposed to his prior work's more experimental feel. It also bears the distinction of being the first film to ever be restored in 8K (the automated scanning process alone took more than 3 weeks), resulting in what Roger Ebert described as "the finest video disc I have ever viewed or ever imagined."
Opening with a shot of snow monkeys sitting in a hot spring in Japan, the camera rests on an individual who seems utterly at peace. Stoically looking about as its eyelids flutter, it slowly drifts asleep. One can only imagine what's going through that monkey's head; it's in our nature to attempt to rationalize and humanise animal behaviour. Maybe it's dreaming.
We visit temples and sacred sites around the world, suggesting that faith is an undeniable facet of the human condition. We see piles of skulls, bones in the Tuol Sleng Genocide Museum, and Auschwitz; perhaps it's the inevitability of death that leads us to believe in divine intervention and/or the afterlife, for some salvation that there might be more to experience than what's tangible on this mortal plane of existence, or a reason why such dreadful things happen. Likewise, we're shown stacked cemeteries, cramped apartment buildings, and Japanese capsule hotels, along with a confronting view of hundreds, possibly thousands of baby chicks being nonchalantly branded and tossed onto conveyor belts- the sad effects of overpopulation.
The film clearly has much to say regarding the universality of suffering, tradition and our ties to the planet. A standout scene showcases an Indonesian tribe performing the Kecak dance/chant, which has been famously sampled by Mr Bungle and, more recently, used in the psy-trance anthem Jungle Walk by Astrix. Ironic, however, that the Kecak originated as a way to entertain tourists in Bali. Footage of various intercontinental tribes adorned with similar paints and body modifications all living in peace, along with CCP soldiers guarding Tiananmen Square communicates the idea that the further life moves from nature, the more it's prone to the horrors of war and class disparity. It's just a bit of a shame that it overstays its welcome (its 11 extra minutes on Koyaanisqatsi feel closer to 20 given how many times it feels like it's about to end and then doesn't), and certain scenes seem framed to shock rather than with the intention of adding to the overarching narrative; one scene portraying naked children took me out of the experience entirely for a solid chunk.
Nevertheless filled with breathtaking and thought-provoking visuals and themes, Baraka is a must-see for anyone who finds themselves with a proclivity towards social sciences, theology, or spirituality.
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