Change Your Image
durrien
Reviews
Ariel Phenomenon (2022)
A Lion Tale
There is possibly too much to say about this story... this encounter... this phenomenon. Which is probably why it took the director some 15 years to research and pull together the preliminary edit of 100 minutes. It's a documentary that was shopped around to would-be distributors, who apparently advised that the film should have more of a commercial appeal. Truly, even in its current form, the movie deserves a wide global audience. It's an authentic account which is perfectly suited for our cultural moment. As a planetary civilization, we are waking up from history. We are at an inflection point in our understanding of ourselves and our place in the cosmos.
Depending on one's perspective, humanity has existed in concert with other intelligent beings since forever. Whether they're angels or aliens or some other kind of dimensional life, these beings are part of a larger natural order. This reality has been experienced and expressed across cultures, around the world, for millennia. Again, it's the sort of mystery that could easily be explored in a longer documentary. There are so many ways to frame the telling of the tale, which sets the stage for an inevitable paradigm shift.
Suffice it to say, for whatever the film may lack in production savvy, it more than makes up for with journalistic integrity and genuine compassion. With unassuming precision, the documentary deftly weaves together many testimonies; from the individuals who witnessed the remarkable event, to the indigenous people for whom these occurrences are part of our common spiritual tapestry. As with all good art, the personal becomes universal. What begins as a very private wrestling to make sense, transforms into a public sharing for our own consideration.
At heart, then, this movie is about honoring those who have had these deeply confounding experiences. These are things that happen. People need the space and support to process such extraordinary moments. Whether we're ready or able, individually and collectively, to fold the mystery of these experiences into our worldview, the truth is that humanity is nestled within a grander reality that's both visible and invisible to our understanding. As Shakespeare reminds us, "There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in our philosophy."
Clearly the phenomenon of otherworldly beings interacting with humanity needs further investigation, on all levels. We may begin to unpuzzle some of the meaning and purpose behind such encounters. In the documentary itself, of all the astounding, mind-boggling recollections, one young girl explains a message that was communicated directly into her mind, through her conscience. She said: "I think they want people to know that we're actually making harm on this world, and we mustn't get too technologed (sic)." Wisdom is as wisdom does.
While "Ariel Phenomenon" is a very competent, strongly conceived introduction to the reality of this earthly mystery, it should also be noted that the director leans heavily in favor of what's known as the "extraterrestrial hypothesis." There is an implicit assumption that the beings are from distant planets in our physical, sensible universe. Meanwhile, other luminaries who have studied these phenomena for decades (e.g., Jacques Vallee) would be underwhelmed to discover that our cosmic interlopers are merely extraterrestrial. All the evidence suggests something much stranger than we can imagine.
In this spirit, it's somehow poetically (or mystically) appropriate that the Zimbabwe event occurred at a place called the Ariel School. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, Ariel has the meaning of "Lion of God," whose angelic mission is elemental dominion over the earth. We may be under the gentle guidance -- and, at times, heavy-handed admonition -- of an invisible cohort with whom we share this majestic world. Through the impressions meticulously curated in this documentary, we are invited and challenged to broaden our worldview. Outside one of the school's classrooms, a children's poster of the solar system quietly reads: "We All Live Together."
I Origins (2014)
Easy on the Eyes
I Origins. A beautiful film.
It's not hard to make movies. Not anymore. The tools of filmmaking are readily available. However, it is hard to make good movies. Always has been.
I Origins walks a very fine line. It wobbles only occasionally, but never loses its balance. Rarely is a movie made with such delicate heart and respect for our humanity. The questions it broaches and struggles with are big ones.
I Origins is not only beautiful because of the excellence of its actors, cinematography, and other technical details. Rather, it is beautiful because it dares to suggest (gasp) that God is in the details.
By definition, God is beyond the realm of human understanding. Maybe that is a non-starter in the pursuit of truth. But as Albert Einstein famously said, "Science without religion is lame. And religion without science is blind."
Faith and reason, spirit and science, are not quarreling bedfellows. They are two lovers in search of one another. Whether it's a religious or scientific worldview, at some point we must admit to our childhood.
If we have the courage to investigate reality for ourselves, wherever the data may lead, we will find that truth is unified. While I Origins is deft enough not to claim any answers, following the end credits there is a little scene that hints at the implications of souls reincarnating.
Marcel Proust once observed: "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes." The world is not discovered by a journey of miles, but closer to home. It is a spiritual journey, inward; very arduous and humbling.
For those who have eyes to see, spiritual things are not meant to be taken literally. If reincarnation is true, in any meaningful sense, it's that Sofi (Wisdom) never dies. The "I" of individuality is the "I" of immortality.
No doubt, like life itself, I Origins is worth seeing again.
I'm Still Here (2010)
Shift Happens
This is a very good movie, but it may not be obvious at first. Our present culture is enamored with spectacle over substance, so I can see why its cursory glance would miss a deeper story being told. It is the story of each of us.
On the surface of things, the movie comes across as a bit voyeuristic. The stereotyped perspective of celebrity life is interesting enough (or not). It is both titillating and uncomfortable to peek behind the veil of someone's raw and intimate life, to have such a personal journey on public display.
The long title for the movie reads, "I'm Still Here: The Lost Years of Joaquin Phoenix." Truly, if we are lucky, we are all works in progress. What is the nature of our identity? What individual and shared narratives have we embraced to define our lives? When those stories unravel at the seams, come crumbling down, what remains?
There has never been a line blurring fiction from non-fiction. It is all fiction, always. The stories we tell ourselves, and others, are both real and imagined. They give shape and trajectory to our lives. Yet, we are simply an expression of circumstance and happenstance -- trying to carve meaning out of our fleeting experience, to connect a constellation of moments and memories into some discernible picture.
We want to believe, in our hearts, that we are special: the mountaintop waterdrop. Rather, we are part of a greater ocean of being, the depths of which we cannot even dimly fathom. Some people go their entire lives without wondering who they are, or how they are called to contribute to the world. Many people are happy enough with the surface show, oblivious to the mystery and reality of their authentic selves. It takes effort to reveal the treasures within. Why bother.
We want our lives to have the benefit of a movie. We want everything somehow to come together, to make sense, to have resolution, a happy ending, triumph, victory! In short: to affirm our desires and imaginings. But life is not like that. It is a messy, desultory business. In the person, in the example, of Joaquin Phoenix, we witness the everyday phenomenon of going to pieces, without falling apart.
As Joaquin says at the top of the movie, he wants to be seen for whom he is, just that. All of it, the good and the not-so-good. From this place, there is the genuine possibility to grow and to become. Truthfulness is the foundation of all virtues. Everything is built on this honest open humanity.
After the fiction of one's self- and culturally imposed identity is obliterated, we can pick our way among the ruins and begin again. The inner and outer forces that have come together to define us -- in a very real sense, to imprison us -- no longer hold their narrative sway. The movie ends on this baptismal note, with a new beginning, a rebirth. Each, in our own way, is reminded: Free thyself from the fetters of the world, loose thy soul from the prison of self. Seize thy chance, for it will come to thee no more.
With a wink and a nod, the movie is complete with cast and writing credits, made under the banner of They Are Going to Kill Us Productions. As self-involved as the movie may first appear, we can be forgiving of its conceit or deceit. This is cinema verite (no accents), as the camera is pointing to truth, without the story itself having to be true. "I'm Still Here" carries the double meaning for this universal and particular process of sacrifice, discovery and spiritual maturation.
In life, when all is said and done, we don't know quite what we have lived through, or what we have wrought. The curtain falls. Someone else takes the stage. A new story begins. Round and round it goes. If we could see the end in the beginning, perhaps we would not lament, but rejoice, in the journey.
Gerry (2002)
Gerry Meandering
This film is good because it allows you to draw the lines of meaning for yourself, as these two men walk across the expansive, amoral canvas of the earth. The movie is quiet, unhurried, and it is ultimately a mirror for our own interior lives. We are along for the journey, and as other reviewers demonstrate, the movie "means" what you bring of yourself to the experience. For some people, this is a greatly boring or uncomfortable experience -- the barrenness, the pointlessness. For others, the perspective is clarifying and respiteful. Against the inevitable ticktock of our lives, we chart our path, wander the wilderness, care for each other (having comical and hurtful moments), and then pass away. It is very much like the clouds, gathering and dissipating. As the journey wears on, with growing clarity of the end, we begin to wonder, How did we get here? How has my life come to such a place? With some uneasiness, we squint into our memory of the journey, and vaguely imagine: Left turn there, right turn here... For those "lucky few," the path leads to relative comfort, to civilization, for a time. But the end is just the same, only postponed. What is remarkable about the movie is to watch how your mind thirsts for some human interaction around which to wrap itself, some meaning by which to orient and navigate. Like the characters moving from one mountain perch to the next, seeking perspective and salvation, so our attention rises and falls from one positive moment to the hopeful next. The desert inbetween these moments seems like an intrusion on our plans, like a wasteful stealing of our lives. When do we arrive at the ground at our feet? When does the walking and arriving nowhere come to an end? Just yesterday, I conquered. I was "this" close to knowing the answer, I was "this" close to saving the world, I was "this" close to being home. The sadness and irony is that there is no prize to be won, ... there is no one to save.