Koyaanisqatsi (1982)

See this cult documentary and regret that you were born a human rather than a cloud or a rock formation or an ocean wave. Here, nature rules and people only bring ruin. It’s all imagery, no narrator, no interviews, no sound at all other than a pounding Phillip Glass score. Director Godfrey Reggio makes pure cinema here, where words ain’t worth a dime and a simple picture counts for everything.

It begins with Earth’s natural elements. We see deserts, roaring oceans and time-lapse views of drifting clouds, all beautifully shot by cinematographer Ron Fricke. That goes on for a half-hour and much like how a word loses meaning if you hear it repeated constantly, the sea, sand and sky here eventually break down into strange and expansive textures and patterns. They even start to look alike. The camera is like an alien visitor witnessing the perfectly functioning organism that is planet Earth. It’s a picturesque place, Earth. It follows an airtight logic. It does nothing wrong.

Then the humans come in, introduced with a mushroom cloud, and the film turns cynical.

Civilization. Cities. Cars. Industry. Tools of war. Endless streams of aloof faces. Reggio observes it all like a scientist might observe cancer cells growing and dividing in a human body. Even when the urban scenery is attractive (which it often is here), it’s still an aberration. It’s an artificial world that profanes the real world. Civilization treats the land as something to be paved over and the sky as a place to emit toxic exhaust fumes.

I can’t say that I sympathize 100% (I like technology, I like my computer, my car, my air-conditioning and my phone—and I like movies, for that matter), but this is worth a look for its singular vision and approach. The best place to see it is a theater so that it can appropriately overwhelm your senses.

I caught it at a theater here that revives a classic film on Tuesday nights. About three-fourths through this—as Reggio’s camera continued to prowl city streets—I absolutely HAD to get up for a restroom break (too many drinks at the theater’s bar before the show), which I normally hate to do, but in this case, it was all right. I walked through the lobby and saw bored workers, an overflowing garbage can, plastic surfaces everywhere and countless lights. It was like I was still watching the movie.