by Beau Kaelin
What is the purpose of film? It seems like an obvious question, but it’s rarely one that we, as moviegoers, ask ourselves. The consensus seems to be, based upon 99% of what both Hollywood, as well as the independent movie scene puts forth is to tell a story. Granted, some filmmakers struggle to convey the tale they had in mind, while others submerge the plot underneath convoluted imagery, but more often than not, there is a story to be had. Ron Fricke, director of “Samsara,” differs in that he uses the medium of film for the most basic of functions – to capture and preserve an image.
“Samsara” slipped out under the radar at the end of last year, lost amidst a sea of Oscar contenders and award wanna-bes, as Hollywood geared up to pat itself on the back once more. Sadly, too few noticed this buoy of beauty amidst that madness. Ron Fricke spent five years travelling the globe, lugging around a 70MM camera, a few feet of dolly track and a custom mount to capture the marvelous sights that make up the body of the work. Every image in “Samsara” is a perfectly captured photograph, but to these images, Fricke adds movement, while Michael Stearns and Lisa Gerrard add music. The result is nothing less than hypnotic. 
While the name “Samsara” might indicate that the theme of the film is one of continuous flow, the true interpretation of many of the film’s images is left up to the viewer. There are some who will find this form of filmmaking vexing, but I’ve never found ambiguity betraying. Admittedly, within the first twenty minutes of the film, I found myself questioning what the message of the film might be. I debated the significance of juxtaposing Oliver de Sagazan’s performance art with robots. I silently questioned the locations of temples and other landmarks. But eventually, I turned my brain off and let the film take hold, because Fricke doesn’t want this film to be a travelogue, nor does he want it to be a conventional documentary that strives to convey a position. It’s a film that’s made for one simple thing – to be beautiful and to instill awe in the viewer.
Fricke’s photography captures the quiet, eerie allure of homes destroyed by Hurricane Katrina and the majesty of glacial lakes with the same expertise. What truly astounded me was the technological achievements the film managed to pull off. Two years ago, everyone hailed James Cameron’s “Avatar” for setting a new benchmark in filmmaking; however, one can simply look at that and realize that it was all made within the confines of an office on a computer. Fricke manages to capture sights that confound the mind. For example, during a sequence in the National Petrified Forest, the camera starts out on a dead tree, its gnarled branches reaching up at the blazing sun that scorched it. Suddenly, over the course of several seconds, the sun sets, the stars rise, and the same tree is now lit by star and moon light with the same brilliance as it was during the day, but the scene goes from caustic to one of haunting awe.
How did Fricke do that? Damned if I know. He manages to capture the span of twelve hours in a matter of seconds, but never is there a harsh transition as one might expect from an aperture change or shutter speed switch. Furthermore, these scenes pan, indicating that he must be using a tripod that shifts a fraction of an inch over the course of an hour, something that would be almost undetectable to the human eye. The average shot in a Hollywood film can be easily redone, because the environment is usually one that is on a controlled set. But Fricke is at the mercy of Mother Nature and the elements. In the event that one such shot proves unusable, that’s half a day lost in a single exposure, meaning you also have to wait another day to try again. Once the notion that Fricke is working with actual film and not using digital technology, “Samsara” becomes all the more astounding.
Ron Fricke has been dabbling in this form of filmmaking for over thirty years. His work first caught the public eye when he teamed up with Godfrey Reggio to create “Koyaanisqatsi.” Since then, Fricke has branched off and created his own works: “Chronos” and “Baraka.” “Baraka” easily works as a companion piece to “Samsara.” When it comes to non-narrative filmmaking, it’s fair, at this juncture, to say that Fricke is unparalleled. I simply find it a pity that it took him twenty years to make another film. However, as is typically the case with filmmaking auteurs whose works are separated by a decade or more, the film is well worth the wait. ore astounding.tounding.
Reviewer’s note to the reader: if you rent this film, do not watch it in the presence of distractions. Set your phone aside and put any and all work down for two hours. This is the best way to enjoy the film’s “ride.”
