Samsara Ron Fricke\'s 2011 Samsara Is More

Samsara

Ron Fricke's 2011 Samsara is more a piece of art than it is a documentary film. Without any dialogue, characterization, or plot, Samsara lacks the hallmarks of a narrative. Yet the viewer comes away from the film feeling changed, and Fricke does manage to impart meaning and significance to the images on the screen. The story being told is a meta-narrative of human existence, with deep commentary on issues like art, religion, war, science, and nature.

The cinematography is the calling card for Samsara. Shot in 70mm, the series of images reads like a photo collage. At times, it is like watching an expertly rendered travel brochure, and at other times, a National Geographic exploration of the world. The visual imagery is accompanied by a soundtrack, but nowhere is there any narration or language to accompany the visual spectacle. It is almost as if Fricke is purposely pointing out the limitations of human language in describing issues like love, war, life, and death. The title of Samsara is from the Sanskrit term for the wheel of birth, death, and rebirth to which human beings are bound and from which we should hope to transcend. As such, the title of the film perfectly suits its material. Fricke shows the viewer scenes of all three of these elements: birth, death, and rebirth. There is great hope in the imagery on screen, but there is also great sorrow and suffering.

Fricke plays with the audience's emotions in surprising ways, mingling imagery that inspires joy, curiosity, and wonder, with imagery that directly depicts pain and suffering or at least, suggests it. Among the more uplifting scenes include those that depict the natural wonders of the world, from the Sahara desert to smoldering volcanoes. Anyone with an inkling for travel will yearn for the places on camera. Moreover, this imagery is devoid of ethics, except those that the viewer will ascribe to it in terms of a sense of responsibility for caring for the earth and being a custodian to the planet. Undoubtedly, Fricke is somewhat concerned with the ways human beings are caring (or not caring) for the planet. There are some scenes of natural disasters and pollution, which reveal the filmmaker's intent.

The imagery of dancers from Indonesia and other places around the world and other artistic and cultural events are inspiring. Unlike the natural wonders of the world, the human wonders are shown to be those requiring tremendous feats of individual effort and accomplishment. These images are designed to inspire greatness. Yet similar to the imagery of the natural world, the pursuit of artistic perfection is a morally neutral event that can assume great ethical and political importance. For instance, the architectural marvels of Christianity in Europe were built in part on the blood shed by the crusaders and later, the imperialists.

Fricke does not shy away from the darker side of human nature, and in fact, wants the viewer to come to terms with how potently destructive we can be. The sequence of images from the ballistics/munitions factory is ironic in that the bullets look innocent, like sticks of lipstick, until we see the disfigured face of the American soldier who symbolizes the casualties of a bellicose society. There is an ironic beauty to the ways human armies are disciplined, and Fricke is careful to connect that imagery to the ways dancers discipline and choreograph themselves too. Like dancers, the soldiers in armies move like one organism, suggesting all the energy and discipline going into that that could be channeled elsewhere -- something more positive and constructive than war, death, and destruction. Religion is shown to be in between the two poles of war and art. For instance, the scene of crowds at Mecca also parallels the imagery of the armies moving in unison, showing what human beings are capable of when joining together to reach a common goal.

I often wished there was more continuity between the images, which at times seemed disjointed, as the filmmaker would jump from topic to topic. However, this was rarely the case as the film surprisingly made sense in terms of conveying the central themes about human nature. One of the most powerful segments of the film, and one that I believe could have been elaborated on in even more detail, was related to the objectification of women and gender issues. The audience spends some time in an eerie factory where life-sized and realistic-looking sex toy mannequins are arranged on tables naked and prone. Their resemblance to real human beings is striking. Then Fricke cuts to an image of an actual woman, and then to a bar with exotic dancers. From the bar, we receive a brief image of a geisha, who is later shown with a tear rolling down her eye. Throughout the gender segment, the message that Fricke is trying to send is more obvious than in other parts of the film, where it seems there is less moralizing.