T3 #1

Koyaanisqatsi : Life out of Balance, 1982

Directed by Godfrey Reggio, score by Philip Glass

An hour and a half of footage set to music, with no dialogue, managed to hold my interest. The film was a reminder of the seductive quality of film artfully used; and maybe also that the human brain is eight times more stimulated by music than by the visual arts. The score has sold well.

The word Koyaanisqatsi means "life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living", and I was left feeling, as intended, disturbed. No solutions were offered; the responsibility was left uncomfortably with the viewer.

A series of panoramic shots showing collapsing landscapes, unfurling clouds racing across the sky and a huge explosion in the desert finally give way to images of the city, and humanity. The spectacular collapsing of modernist blocks, a long shot of a huge airplane moving gradually toward camera, distorted by waves of heat rising from the runway. Reminiscent of Lawrence of Arabia emerging out of the desert, except we are left with a huge overshadowing lozenge of metal. A long shot of a pilot, staring fiercely and uncompromisingly into camera, the camera moving in and in on his face, until it is almost abstract.

At the end, we are left with three translated Hopi prophecies:

"If we dig precious things from the land, we will invite disaster."

"Near the day of Purification, there will be cobwebs spun back and forth in the sky."

"A container of ashes might one day be thrown from the sky, which could burn the land and boil the oceans."

The idea that we are damaging the planet by overconsumption is now generally accepted, although it may have been more of a revelation in 1982. Perhaps more problematic is Reggio's simplified critique of the relationship between humans and technology.

Since the beginning of the industrial revolution, social commentators have ascribed to machinery and factory production a dark force of dehumanization; and the images of factories and traffic patterns juxtaposed with close-up images of computer chips locate this film firmly within this tradition. Apart from the pilot, who has the ominous presence of the plane behind him, the only people Reggio chooses to show seem either enslaved to factory production and commuting, ant-like, or alone, even isolated.

As a counterpoint to this critique of the way humanity coexists with technology, I would like to suggest watching ‘En construction’’ (2001), a documentary by Jose Luis Guerin, who records the last days of an impoverished community in Barcelona, before the decaying barrio where they live is redeveloped, and they are moved away.

The intimacy apparent in the community, and the interdependence of the vulnerable is strangely dignified, which makes it ultimately more hopeful. Both films raise questions about the way humanity exists in an urban environment, where technology and communities necessarily intersect.