March 31, 2008
EAT, FOR THIS IS MY BODY
Ah, the art film. It takes a confrontational, yet charming, attitude to pull it off. Fortunately, Eat, For This Is My Body's director, Michelange Quay, has these qualities in spades. The opening sequence of this stunning film from Haiti will leave no doubt that this is what what he was meant to do.
The film starts off as a post-Koyaanisqatsi-slash-Michel-Gondry-Joga-music-video mélange as it sweeps into Haitian shores, over seemingly endless shantytowns, and finally through mountainous terrain; all while morphing-ethno-ballad-free-pop-jazz collides with the images. Calling this sequence a show-stopper does it injustice, as does all the descriptions I have used to explain it; for the real film has yet to even start.
Once we get the hang of things, we slowly become aware that we are being brought closer and closer to the people and culture of the country. After that incredible ride into the heart of Haiti, Quay progresses the film through a free-association style montage of moving water that constantly reminds the us of the effects of human culture and the incomparable power of nature. Ethnographic documentary footage of voodoo chanting and dancing follows. From this emerges another spellbinding image (a redundancy in this film): an older man in a trance-like state, dancing with a log lit on one end. He then proceeds to eat from the burning embers while he dances with an unforgettable piercing expression in his eyes.
This is a good time to point out that, no, the film really hasn't started yet.
Day breaks and we loosely follow a group of boys through beautiful Haitian terrain, into a colonial mansion, and finally into a room straight out of 2001: A Space Odyssey --yes, that room. And just like that, we are brought into another world --or rather, Quay's head. The real film begins here, some 30 minutes into it, and what we are presented is a mixture of the works of Matthew Barney and David Lynch.
If you are still reading this, then I guess neither name gets to you. Chances are there are more Lynch fans than Barney fans (including myself), and to me, this is the saving grace of the film. What follows are elaborate scenes that are reminiscent of those in Barney's Cremaster Cycle: completely elaborate conceptual scenes (read pretentious to some) that are loosely related and seem to allude to colonialization and race relations in Haiti. I am vague about this because Quay will never allow you to read anything definitive from this film (read pretentious to some) other than that the it deals with differences in the balance of power --his words. Scenes include those with an elderly woman confined to bed who recites a poem about her role as nature and the destruction caused by the hungry yearning for food. "...Eat, for this is my body," then, serves as a significant theme. Others include the group of boys and their white female headmaster. Again, themes of hunger and power are constantly reinforced. She is played by the gorgeous Sylvie Testud, who is on track to setting a remarkable career for herself. American audiences can recognize her in a supporting role in the automatically more straightforward La Vie en Rose.
Again, the Lynch-ian aspects of these scenes, direct focus on foreboding qualities objects and sound, save them and make them better than Barney's work (read pretentious to some). The most Barney-esque sequence of the film, one of grannies dj-ing while non-diagetic ethnic music that has been modernized with beats plays, fails miserably because, frankly, it is a lousy and pretentious idea. First of all, the point of the scene is too obvious; and second, even though it plays as good as it possibly can, an idea like that is nothing short of terrible. This is the kind of work done with good intentions, but with bad taste: the make or break of outsider art.
You should, however, ignore the fact that the film can be merely pretentious at times. I only pointed out that instance to be fair. This is, after all, Michelange Quay's first feature film, and the many overwhelmingly brilliant images that you will see completely warrant viewing and, more importantly, make you think; for you have no choice when narrative is this vague. Once Quay matures and has more control of his ego, he will surely do significant work in the cinematic arts. Remember his name.
Posted by Fran at March 31, 2008 8:51 PM