Sunday, April 20, 2014

Disney's The Love Bug (1968)

Now that Disney owns Star Wars, it seems only fitting to finally address one of my wildest but fully-endorsed (by me) classic film connections to the Star Wars saga.

Just as Maria in Fritz Lang's film Metropolis inspired C-3PO, the little Volkswagen bug in Disney's The Love Bug - also known as "Herbie" - was clearly an inspiration for R2-D2.

Crazy, am I? Well, then: Let’s go crazy.

Any Lucas follower knows Lucas was really into cars in his teen years and, as the legend goes, if he never had that dreaded car accident as a youngin’, he may never have gone on to college, made American Graffiti, and so on and so forth.

That said, once he started making films in college, cars were prominent in his films – like in his film “1 42 08 A Man and His Car.” Or, better yet, see the George Lucas student film named “Herbie.” Oh, have I got your attention, now?

Granted, “Herbie” in Lucas’ film is a nod to jazz musician Herbie Hancock – but the love of “the car” is present, too. And, if you haven’t seen American Graffiti yet, and call yourself a Star Wars fan, well…you should see it. All I’ll spoil is that cars are very, very important to the film.

In The Love Bug (1968), a whiny, downtrodden racer inherits a small Volkswagen bug soon-to-be-named “Herbie” and quickly learns Herbie has a mind of its own and often disobeys commands with the best interests in mind for everyone. With a chrome and white chassis, Herbie features red, blue and black markings and communicates to others through a series of beeps and whistles. The nemesis of Herbie’s owner sends men to repossess Herbie. They fail repeatedly, but do manage to hurt Herbie on occasion. In the last stretch of the big finale, Herbie – after having been sabotaged by the villain multiple times – falls apart before the final victory, seemingly destroyed forever. However, Herbie’s team goes on to win the final race. Thankfully, in the film’s final scene, Herbie is already put back together – good as new and ready for another adventure.

 In Star Wars (1977), a whiny, depressed space farm boy acquires a small Astromech droid named R2-D2 and quickly learns that “Artoo” has a mind of its own and often disobeys commands with the best interests in mind for everyone (In Artoo’s case, it’s the best interest of the Rebellion against the Empire). With a chrome and white chassis, Artoo features red, blue and black lights and markings and communicates to others through a series of beeps and whistles. Darth Vader, the nemesis of Luke Skywalker/Ben Kenobi, sends stormtroopers to Tatooine to repossess Artoo.  They fail repeatedly, but Vader does manage to blow up Artoo in the last stretch of the big finale – the trench run. Artoo is seemingly destroyed forever, right before the final victory – the destruction of the first Death Star. However, Artoo’s fellow rebels go on to win the final battle. Thankfully, in the film’s final scene, Artoo is already put back together – good as new and ready for another adventure.

Go ahead, call me crazy. Or agree with me. Either way, write a comment below and let me know your thoughts.

Saturday, April 12, 2014


Here's a "THANK YOU!" gift  to all who took my Music & Writing survey. A playlist based on your responses. Enjoy!

Thursday, March 13, 2014

Writers Survey about Music

Hello there!

As many of you already know,  several of my blog entries pertain to my academic work at West Chester University of Pennsylvania. Currently, I'm conducting a survey about WRITERS and THE MUSIC THEY LISTEN TO. If you fancy yourself a writer - professional, academic, or otherwise - please take the survey via the link below. It would help me out a great deal. Also, I failed to put in the survey a question regarding age of participant. If you do fill out the survey, please give some indication of your age in the final comments section.

Thanks in advance! Click here to take survey

Monday, March 10, 2014

Radar Men from the Moon (1952)

Just when I thought I had a cut-and-dry classic film reference for Digging Star Wars, I've uncovered a rat's nest. Here's the deal: Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith introduced a character named "Commander Cody." He was Obi-Wan's clone commander ally and soon-to-be, would-be executioner. Cody is the first clone to kickoff the infamous Order 66 scene.

Commander Cody would later appear in multiple episodes of the animated TV series Star Wars: The Clone Wars. I often heard his name was a reference to one old serial film character of the same name. Wrong!

Sith's Commander Cody name is based on Republic Pictures' COMMANDO Cody character, who was in the 12-chapter movie serical named Radar Men from the Moon in 1952. Fourteen years after its movie theater run, the same serial aired on television as Retick the Moon Menace. Here is the trailer for Radar Men from the Moon...

But there's a slight controversary with the name. In an issue of Comics Scene magazine (Comic Scene #20, pp. 29-30), critics suggest that Republic named the character Commando Cody to confuse younger viewers that they were watching COMMANDER Corry of Space Patrol - a popular ABC TV show in the first half of the 1950s. Republic Pictures has never confirmed nor denied this allegation. Here's just one episode of Space Patrol - complete with Space Patrol commercials!

To make it even more confusing, Republic's COMMANDO Cody featured the same rocket-man suit from the 1949 Republic serial King of the Rocket Men. The suit not only made a prominent appearance in Radar Men from the Moon, but also Zombies of the Stratosphere (1952) and Commando Cody: Sky Marshall of the Universe (1953). And, since we're knee-deep in the confusing mess of borrowing, stealing, and rehashing: Zombies of the Stratosphere - which featured a young actor named Leonard Nimoy - was re-edited into the 1958 feature film called Satan's Satellites.

So, to be fair, we need to consider both Radar Men from the Moon and Space Patrol as the cinematic parents of Obi-Wan's turncoat clone commander Cody. In math terms:

COMMANDER Corry [Space Patrol (1950-1955)] + Commando CODY [Radar Men from the Moon (1952)] = COMMANDER CODY [Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)]

There: clear as mud.

Monday, February 3, 2014

Top Hat (1935)

George Lucas, as quoted in STAR WARS MYTHMAKING: BEHINDTHE SCENES OF ATTACK OF THE CLONES, “…I wanted to tell a love story in a style that was extremely old-fashioned…much more like a movie from the 1930s than any of the others had been, with a slightly over-the-top, poetic style…” 1935 Best Picture Nominee TOP HAT is such a love story…and, quite frankly, delivers flowery dialogue ever-more-so eloquently.
Top Hat was one of the films that rocketed Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers to stardom. As far as “old” black-and-white musicals go, it’s fantastic. A toe-tapping Irving Berlin score, superb dance numbers, cool Art Deco sets, and light-hearted love angst create an entertaining ride from London to Brighton to Venice.

To boil TOP HAT down to its basic plot: A very talented performer named Jerry (Fred Astaire) hopes a very elite, beautiful woman named Dale (Ginger Rogers) will be his girl. Jerry tries to woo Dale, but she needs convincing throughout the whole picture that Jerry is worthy of a commitment. Right before the grand finale, Dale realizes Jerry is worthy of a love pledge – but there’s one more adventure to survive.

Sound familiar? Here's the Attack of the Clones version of what I just wrote...

To boil AOTC down to its basic plot: a very powerful Jedi named Anakin (Hayden Christensen) hopes a very elite, beautiful woman named Padme (Natalie Portman) will be his girl. Anakin tries to woo Padme, but she needs convincing throughout the whole picture that Anakin is worthy of a commitment. Right before the grand finale, Padme realizes Dale is worthy of a love pledge – but there’s one more adventure to survive.

Let’s face it: the “out of your league” love quest is nothing new to cinema…or storytelling for that matter. But Lucas’ disregard for criticism of his dialogue is commendable, especially since everyone including Harrison Ford is a known critic of his screenplays’ dialogue. “I was very happy with the way it turned out in the script and in performances, but I knew people might not buy it, “ Lucas confessed. “…Most guys think that kind of flowery, poetic talk is stupid…More sophisticated, cynical types also don’t buy that stuff. So I didn’t know if people would laugh at it and throw things at the screen, or if they would accept it.”

The first time I saw AOTC, moviegoers either laughed or winced at this dialogue. Padme’s line to Anakin about “dying a little bit each day since you came back into my life” caused a mysterious female moviegoer to bellow from the back of the now defunct United Artists East Whiteland Stadium Theater, “AWWWW, Come on! For Real?!” Here’s that line and more from AOTC’s love pledge scene…

That said, the dialogue is nostalgic and builds the relationship to a significant degree. By the time we get to Mustafar in Revenge of the Sith, fans were dialed into this over-the-top dialogue. When Padme delivers the equally corny line, “Anakin, you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I cannot follow!” I heard my Father-in-law – just a few seats down from me –ask a female moviegoer, “Are you all right? You’re crying.” The female fan simply said, “I am. It’s so beautiful.”

Still not buying AOTC as a worthy love story? Fine. You don’t have to. BUT…if you want to see it done right, see romance films from the 1930s…starting with TOP HAT.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

Ben-Hur (1959)

1959's Ben-Hur had the subtitle: “A Tale of The Christ” – or, in other words, a story involving The Messiah or “The Chosen One.”  This all seems fitting as Ben-Hur’s often imitated chariot race is clearly referenced in Phantom Menace’s podrace with Anakin Skywalker (aka “The Chosen One”).

Having assisted on set of the 1926 version of Ben-Hur, William Wyler approached his 1958 production of this Tale of the Christ differently. Wyler focused on the love/hate relationship between Ben-Hur (Charlton Heston) and Messala (Stephen Boyd). The famous chariot race – epic in scale with 8,000 extras, teams of horses, and so – is so powerful and often imitated due to its use of dramatic close-ups to emphasize the characters and danger.

This same dramatic use of close-ups to emphasize the danger of an epic race was utilized by Lucas in Episode I’s famous podrace.

Other borrowed elements include the racetrack design elements, parade of racer flags and, of course, a snide, pompous, bloated ruler starting the race. Ben-Hur won 11 Oscars including Best Picture.
Know of other similarities? Continue the chat below.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Godfrey Reggio’s Qatsi Trilogy: A Concealed Yet Cinematic Call to Prayer

“It is our duty to pray always for harmony between man and earth…”

-Excerpt from A Hopi Prayer for Peace


Before the technological explosion of social media outlets like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and Pinterest, photography was relegated to the traditional worlds of commemorative mementos, photo journalism, advertising, and art. While the undeniable element of commercialism is present in each of these forums, the search for Truth (what’s really happening) and Beauty (what is ideal) served as the primary motivator in still photography. Motion pictures, on the other hand, explored this realm briefly before dedicating itself completely to the narrative commodities of Hollywood films, propaganda, and infotainment. Photography is about documenting and beautifying; filmmaking is about telling and selling.

            Sprouting out in this cracked juncture between the two like-but-different mediums, the avant-garde documentary thrives like a weed. Godfrey Reggio, the pioneer and arguable father of the avant-garde documentary, has bridged the viewing experience of photography and film in his highly-acclaimed, highly-dismissed “Qatsi” film trilogy: Koyaanisqatsi (1983), Powaqqatsi (1988), and Noqoyqatsi (2002). Over the course of the three films, Reggio tells the story of our world and our people with only one word uttered per film, the title of each installment. Reggio’s films, like so many despised weeds, catch our eye and fascination almost against our own will. To some, his work falls into Susan Sontag’s “negative epiphany” trap: raising conscience to crises we cannot impact in any way. Others, in Sontag’s line of thought, have called his vision “banal” and “cliché” – as the images of pollution, over-population, and war are already all too familiar to us (Dempsey 14).

            Reggio, on the other hand, eventually made his intentions clear off-camera – proclaiming his films are about “the lunacy of living,” how technology is “something we live,” and, ultimately, how “the image has become more real than the reality” (Wise 3).  Like the flickering images on the wall of Plato’s Cave that the dwellers accepted as reality, Reggio’s films present “the world you live in” in a way “you’ve never really seen” (LeCinephobe). Reggio even included painfully-slow zoom outs of meticulously-yet-primitively-crafted ancient cave drawings within the first Qatsi film to visually emphasize and establish this point: we’re still accepting the images on the wall as reality. Viewed by many as propaganda for activism to save the environment, Third World, or what have you, the Qatsi trilogy has been defined by both critics and the filmmaker himself as a forced retrospection and helpless acknowledgement of where we’ve been, where we are, and where we are headed. Reggio, his followers, or even his critics have not acknowledged how his use of still photography viewing experiences within a film serve Reggio’s higher purpose. Until now, no one has explored how the Qatsi Trilogy is a heartfelt invitation to contemplate, meditate, and pray for humanity.

Lose your shyness, find your tongue, Alleluia!

Tell the world what God has done, Alleluia!”

- Excerpt from Christian Brothers’ prayer song, There’s a Spirit in the Air


            Born in New Orleans in 1940, Godfrey Reggio would join the Roman Catholic pontifical order of the Christian Brothers at the age of 14. As a monk, Reggio lived a very strict life consisting of silence, fasting, manual labor, and study. Even as a young adult monk, Reggio linked image with the Divine, as he explained in his own words:  “I collected holy cards, not baseball cards…” (Dempsey 2). During his years of religious service, Reggio became increasingly involved in social activism, which upset his religious superiors. In an attempt to decrease his growing involvement in secular activities, Reggio was asked to relocate to Rome to work in the Christian Brothers archives. Instead, Reggio left the order at age 28.  Reggio does not regret entering or leaving the Christian Brothers, as it gave him a different point of view of America (Burr 26). Reggio’s next life-changing event was a screening of Luis Bunuel’s film Los Olvidados (The Young and the Damned). Reggio was deeply moved by the film’s surreal storytelling of two young Mexicans who venture deeper and deeper into the criminal world. Reggio was in awe of the film’s disregard for entertainment and its focus on a social issue. He called the act of seeing the film a “spiritual experience” (Wise 1). Years later, Reggio was introduced to television and film production when he helped establish the Institute for Regional Education (IRE) in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Much of his IRE video and film work explored technology’s control over society – a theme Reggio would claim is the thematic heart and soul of his renowned Qatsi film trilogy.

“O, the Astonishing Spectacle we then had before our eyes,

of the vanity of our best estate in this life!”

-          Excerpt from Benjamin Colman’s A Devout Contemplation

            Each film within the Qatsi Trilogy is named after a Reggio-invented word using parts of the Hopi Indian language. While each “qatsi” name is animated in a beginning opening title sequence of each film, the definition of the title isn’t explained until the end of the film with onscreen graphics (see figure below) . All three films feature a Phillip Glass score with minimal vocal accompaniment. There is no sync/natural audio coinciding with action or images onscreen. The imagery featured in the films varies in content, but is best described as documentary footage of the world and civilization with on-camera subjects ranging from landscape to portraitures to pop culture media. Both Koyaanisqatsi and Naqoyqatsi feature a significant percentage of pre-existing footage (also known as “found footage”).  Various film critics and reviewers are quick to note that the Qatsi films have no setting, no characters, no dialogue, and no plot.  While it is overwhelming to synopsize each Qasti film, a brief understanding of each film is necessary in light of this argument regarding Reggio’s intentions for the films.

            Koyaanisqatsi has been called everything from a hypertext to a head trip (Essid 1). When it premiered at Radio City Music Hall as the opening selection of the 1983 New York Film Festival, audiences were simultaneously confused and inspired by a film with no plot, setting, characters, dialogue, or narration. Even with Francis Ford Coppola’s name as the “presenter” of this new work of art, Koyaanisqatsi was a risky film to make and was deemed by most as “unreleasable.” With soaring imagery of the unpopulated deserts to portraitures of Americans from all walks of life, Koyaanisqatsi seemingly left no stone unturned for thought-provoking content. The films use of time lapse and motion-controlled photography of weather, traffic, and television broadcasts inspired a generation of commercial, cable television, and music video directors (Burr 13). Mimicry of Reggio’s lockdown, sped-up time lapse cinematography of clouds swirling in a frenzy over the countryside, the moon sliding behind a glossy skyscraper, and car headlights streaking over and underpasses have been seen on many cable networks including QVC, The Weather Channel, and MTV.  While Reggio didn’t create time lapse, extended open shutter, or double exposure shooting techniques required to achieve these visual effects, he made them popular and hip among influential film and television industry leaders. Koyaanisqatsi went on to receive considerable critical acclaim and awards, grossed nearly twice its budget within the first decade of its release, and is considered required viewing in most film schools. The subtitle of Koyaanisqatsi, as listed on its MGM DVD case, is “Life Out of Balance” (Reggio, 1983).  In short, this film sets up a trilogy centering on how technology itself is becoming the environment. Technology is no longer “something we use, it’s something we live” (Wise 3).

With the financial backing of both Francis Ford Coppola and George Lucas and twice the budget of the first Qatsi film, Powaqqatsi (1988) would feature original documentary footage captured in Kenya, Egypt, Peru, Africa, India, Asia, South America and the Middle East (Sterrit 1). While critics championed the film’s embrace of diverse cultures and religions, as well as its praise of hand labor, craftsmanship, and wishful return to nature, Powaqqatsi barely made one-fourth of its budget at the box office (Dempsey 8). The film was considered by many to be the sophomore slump of Reggio’s filmmaking career, however, Powaqqatsi produced the most recognizable music track of the trilogy: Anthem, Part 3 – which won an ASCAP Film and Television Music Award for its reuse in the Jim Carrey dramatic feature, The Truman Show (1998) – suggesting that, at the very least, certain elements of this Qatsi film are the most accessible to the mainstream moviegoers. Powaqqatsi also possessed a distinct structure. Inspired by the Berlin Wall, Reggio structured the film in two distinct sections to tell his story of “Life in Transformation” (Reggio, 1988). The first focused on present-day cultures using minimal technology.

The second section illustrated the human and environmental cost of progress and reliance on technology. (Shapiro 125).  Powaqqatsi’s structure solidified the overall “Life” arc of the trilogy from “Life Out of Balance” to “Life in Transformation” to, ultimately, “Life as War.” Powaqqatsi also clearly pointed to the Qatsi films’ spiritual intent with shots of praying people of various faiths and other inspirational imagery guiding viewers to contemplate the “obvious relevance… of the spiritual aspect of life” (Shapiro 106).

            Naqoyqatsi (2002), subtitled “Life As War,” is the concluding installment in the Qatsi trilogy and is seemingly as bleak as its title.  Film critic Alan Burdick describes the film as “a dizzying journey that evokes genetic enhancement, crowd violence, television advertising, urban decay, rural decay, and the overall digitalization of society…picture The Matrix on acid (2).” Others explain its theme as “the human endeavor devoted to self-destruction” (McCarthy 2) and “the loss of everything of diversity and individuality…the Los Angelisation of the planet (Wise 3).” Financed by Academy-Award-winning director Steven Soderbergh, nearly 80% of Naqoyqatsi is created from found footage of television news feeds, videogames, internet media, and industrial films (Reggio, 2002). The shortest film in the trilogy with a running time of 89 minutes, Naqoyqatsi is the first Qatsi film to feature original computer-generated animation and Yo-Yo Ma’s cello solos. Despite all these “marketable” aspects to the film, this installment is the weakest box office performer of the three Qatsi films, grossing just over $133,000 domestic with an estimated budget of $3 million (  Despite this dismal performance at the box office, Naqoyqatsi’s imagery and intended message is indeed haunting and hard to ignore. Plus, Reggio’s collaboration with Glass, Soderbergh, and Naqoyqatsi editor Jon Kane proved fruitful. Visitors, another avant-garde documentary film by Reggio, Glass, and Kane and presented by Soderbergh, is due for release in 2014.

“…He is as a word which comes out of your mouth.

That word! It is no more, it is past, and still it lives! So is God.”

-          Excerpt from Bantu prayer


            Due to the still life misé en scene of the Qatsi films, Godfrey Reggio has been referred to as a “vital link” across the chasm that now separates still photography from cinema. As culture critic Carlo McCormick proclaims: Reggio is “our greatest hope for recovering cinema as a pure pictorial language capable of relating its own stories outside the realm of words” (13). The pure pictorial communication of ideas and themes has been explored throughout film history. In the opening placards of his 1927 film Man with a Movie Camera, filmmaker Dziga Vertov referred to himself as both an author and experiment supervisor who aspired to create “a truly international language of cinema based on its absolute separation from the language of theatre and literature” (1927). In the 1950s, the Left Bank Group of the French New Wave film movement referred to themselves as “cinematographic essayists” (Taylor 74).  Chris Marker, a leading essayist in this movement, made several documentary and narrative films that mainly consisted of still images with audio accompaniment – the most well-known of these works is the renowned science fiction short La Jetee (1962). In his article “Writing with Images…”, Andrew Taylor refers to films that employ mainly still imagery as “still/moving forms” that allow “more space for audience interaction and emotional response than conventional narrative cinema” (59). Taylor further explains that when filmmakers mix both still photography and film footage, they are creating Film-Photo-Essays. A key aspect of the Film-Photo-Essay is its ability to provide “pensive moments” via a freeze frame or still image over a certain period of time within a film. This pensive moment prompts the viewer to have an emotional reaction to the image and its sequential placement within the overall film. By utilizing these pensive moments, filmmakers hope to communicate their vision on the determined topic and inspire the viewer to think and act upon the cause at hand. According to famed film theorist Siegfried Kracauer,  photography and film were predestined to inspire viewers to improve our world since both mediums share a “redeeming physical reality” that must be used “to save civilization from its compulsive indulgence in abstractions brought on by science” (Pennley 66). An awareness of humanity’s growing “reliance on science” is at the core of the Qatsi trilogy’s message, but it is not its sole purpose.

“In your love you have given us the power

to behold the beauty of your world

robed in all its splendor.”

-          Excerpt from Jewish Prayer for Hanukkah

Koyaanisqatsi begins with a “slipstream of landscapes images all but hallucinatory in their pellucid, unpopulated clarity” (Dempsey 2).  As the film progresses, we see humanity ignore its environment with passive acceptance of mechanization. Time-lapse photography likens speedy subway commuters on escalators to hot dogs careening through a meat-packing assembly line.  While cinematic treatment of vistas usually convey landscape as a medium unto itself with “exchange, focus, and formulation of identity” (Mitchell 2), Reggio juxtaposes spacious deserts with clogged subways to stress humanity’s dangerous disconnect with the natural world. Powaqqatsi works in the same way, only the dichotomy is much more severe. The first half of the film displays cultures that are less tech-infused and more merged with nature. Upon the arrival of an unusually long freight train that continuously rolls through the frame for several minutes at the half-way mark of the film, it becomes clear that the “beast god of modernity” has arrived. From that point forward, Powaqqatsi illustrates how technology has become our new environment, as natural as the air we breathe (Dempsey 9-10). Naqoyqatsi continues this bleak exposition of humanity’s commitment to technology, tying it into our collective lust for control and power via war, videogames, entertainment, and science. Reggio claims he saw the Qatsi vision years before he was a filmmaker saying: “America was becoming rootless…the family was dying…it wouldn’t be long before we had a technological society” (Burr 26). Ironically, Reggio’s observations of a world gone wrong with technology have been recorded with the most advanced filmmaking tools of its day. Yet, even with critics’ grasp of the trilogy’s meaning complete with Reggio quotes to support their claims, they still struggle with the purpose of the films. “The filmmakers,” Burdick gripes, “offer no insight and admit they are portraying the devil using the devil’s own digital paintbrush” (2).

“…May I realize the Path of Awakening,

For the sake of all beings.”

-excerpt from Buddhist Mealtime Prayer


            “I wanted to see the familiar for the first time, to stare at it until it was strange,” Reggio explained as his intent with the Qatsi films, “To do this, I had to hold a mirror to the world (McCormick 29).” Through his films, Reggio takes advantage of people’s conditioning to see our world in a “type of comfortable but lazy perceptual ground (Shapiro 53).” Our modern-day minds quickly process each shot in his films and cry “Next!” in a rushed desire to move onto the next morsel of information. Still, by employing pensive moments such as long, fixed camera angles on casino waitresses staring into camera or a single sheep that is virtually cloned before our eyes (see images above), Reggio suspends time, thereby forcing the viewer to “perceive the flow of visual information as a process of contemplation.” This forced contemplation awakens something buried deep down inside us that we can’t readily explain. These films, as McCormick points out, circumvent the mind “by accessing the heart and soul through the senses (McCormick 29).” It is through this forced contemplation – via a myriad of shots ranging from majestic barren landscapes to staring contests with children of the Third World – that Godfrey is inviting the viewer to pray.

“I recognize you are the temple

In which my spirit and creative energy dwell.”

-excerpt from Affirmation to My Body, Hindu

            Prayer has been defined by many different religious organizations. Many people understand prayer as “talking to God.” Buddhists, however, do not believe in God, but they do pray to “enlightened beings” for healing and guidance. Yet all who pray – regardless of their religion – are attempting to communicate with an entity or entities they believe are real (Chilson 8). Reggio, as a one-time member of the Roman Catholic Christian Brothers order, believes God is real and prayer is an acknowledgement of God’s presence in words, action, or contemplation. For Catholics, prayer is also considered a gift from God to be accepted and utilized. Reggio has indirectly positioned the Qatsi trilogy in a similar fashion. “The films are offered as a gift,” Reggio explained, “not a point of view” (Wise 1).

            Both direct and indirect references to religious icons appear throughout the Qatsi films. Various critics claim that Koyaanisqatsi provides “God’s eye perspective” on the modern world with sweeping, aerial views of massive waterfalls, desert canyons, and ant-like portrayals of congested cities. Powaqqatsi’s procession of open pit mine workers is said to be “Christ-like” and the moment in the film when the viewer is “entering a dimension of the mystical, the holy, or the supernatural” (Shapiro 114, 73). Naqoyqatsi is more abrupt, barraging the viewer with a series of corporate logos intermixed with the Christian cross, the Star of David, the Star and Crescent, and so on.

            Powaqqatsi illustrates people in prayer and contemplation more than any Qatsi film. The first montage occurs after several long takes of smiling children in a nondescript city slum starting directly into camera for an extended period of time. The children are followed by a Buddhist, then a Muslim, and then a silhouetted figure pondering the sunset at the ocean’s edge. These images, as Shapiro explains, convey “a certain universality of spiritual need and expression” (83). Just like the figure in the film staring at the sunset, the viewer is staring at the movie screen conscious of the visual meaning before their eyes, but wordless in response (Tuzik 12). The viewer has entered contemplation alongside the religious figures within the film.

            Several minutes later in the film, Reggio combines images of children again with religion. Children dressed in tattered clothes stare at the camera while riding a primitive Ferris wheel. This scene is intercut with shots of more Muslims at prayer and a Hasidic Jew kissing the Wailing Wall. Powaqqatsi keeps repeating this pattern: children looking directly into camera followed by religious figures.

This repeating pattern is the core of the Qatsi trilogy. In Koyannisqatsi, Reggio established cinema as a vehicle for prayer with pensive Film-Photo-Essay moments of awe-inspiring, uninhabited landscape and casino workers, subway commuters, and jet pilots staring directly into camera.  This guided looking at the awesomeness of nature and man is directly out of the Bible. “O Lord, our Lord, Your greatest is seen in all the world!...When I look at the sky, which You have made, at the moon and the stars, which You set in their places – what is man, that You think of him…Yet You made him inferior only to Yourself…(PSALM 8: 1, 3-5).”

Powaqqatsi also highlights God’s majesty in creation as well as his presence within a variety of people, but centers on obvious religious figures or poor children – who represent the ultimate citizens of Heaven. “Amen, I say to you,” Jesus teaches his disciples, “unless you turn and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven (MATT 18:3-4).”

Naqoyqatsi showcases how humanity has sacrificed this humility for its lust for war, power, technology, and science. As a result, most of the Naqoyqatsi landscapes are crumbling, war-torn structures – similar to the fallen “Babylon the Great” of the Book of Revelations (REV 18: 2). However, the call to prayer through cinematic face-to-face contact remains. The most memorable Naqoyqatsi people staring into camera are not human at all, but wax figures representing various politicians and military commanders. And yet, the viewer can contemplate humanity while staring at the wax sculptures. This appreciation of technology and art’s ability to evoke pensiveness can elevate the viewer to a higher level of communication with the Divine. In this sense, the Qatsi films are the same as the wax figurines – both art and artificial – with a holy purpose to connect the viewer to a higher reality.

            While the on-camera presence of faithful people engaged in prayer and meditation are obvious markers of the need for prayer in the world, the extended shots of people looking into camera represent the most earnest call to prayer. Through these portraitures that break the fourth wall between the filmed and the filmgoer, Reggio is drawing our attention to the God’s own concealment within our world. As Father Haggerty writes in his book Contemplative Prayer: “When [God] shows himself, it will be in camouflage and shadow, the glimpse of his face not recognized until later…A poor man’s face, uncomprehended at the time, leaves our souls disquieted, longing for God and not knowing why…Christian revelation is the mystery of divine personhood gazing at us from a human face (Haggerty 28, 31).” Like the holy cards he collected in his youth, Reggio’s Qatsi films are visual aids for communicating with the Divine.

“Praise be to the Lord of the Universe

Who created us and made us into tribes and nations

That we may know each other,

not that we may despise each other.”

-          Muslim Prayer For Peace

Technology is often cast as the villain in the Qatsi trilogy, but it is not the sole cause of our sufferings. Rather, the villain is modern day humanity’s “certain poverty of spiritual intelligence” due to its reliance on technology (Haggerty 41). Since technology has become humanity’s “way of life” as a constant companion in the pursuit of knowledge and distraction, the search for God within the world and within each other offers seemingly no practical purpose. As a result, this call to prayer is ignored. Similar to the many social media participants who become less social in reality, citizens of the post-Qatsi world have accepted “the image as more real that reality” – just as Reggio and Sontag predicted. Luckily for us, the recognition of humanity’s lack of interest in prayer and its growing interest in technology inspired Reggio to make technically-advanced films that lead us to prayer. The Qatsi films are slick evangelistic maneuvers – placing the works and faces of God before viewers under the guise of a feature-film documentary.  Reggio – along with his Qatsi film crew – continue to make films that dazzle and aggravate viewers, stirring their souls. Their latest film, Visitors, is due out in 2014.  What is the visual content of the film’s trailer? Beautiful, high definition video footage of people staring directly at us. Perhaps this prompt will inspire viewers to communicate with the Divine in each of us. After all, one can only hope…and pray.