Back in the days when I was a sapling - by which I mean I was still developing and the sap was constantly on the rise - I was always up for a good Art film. This was because it was the late 60s, and it was a good bet that I would find something in an Art film which wasn't easily available elsewhere, namely moving images of naked women. The endless quest for naked women, though not yet extinguished, has abated somewhat over the years, and I am now better able to assess Art films without such matters obscuring my judgement. And my conclusion is as follows: some of them are, indeed, art, but many of them represent their maker following a particular vision which is not necessarily obviously apparent to the audience. I am not a deep person, obscure visions do not suddenly reveal themselves in clarity to me, and Art films therefore frequently strike me as pretentious rubbish.
Dusan Makavejev has certainly been among the trailblazers of personal visions, and that is the case here. I do not have the vaguest idea what he is trying to convey in this strange, almost plot-free collection of sequences, many of which seem calculated to make the audience challenge their conceptions of what can be considered acceptable viewing. The extraordinarily beautiful Carol Laure goes through a series of increasingly odd experiences until she ends up pleasuring herself while writhing around stark naked in liquid chocolate in a sequence which surprised me at how explicit it was, particularly for 1974, and especially given that it was intended for public exhibition. And this was one of the the "normal" bits. Murder, war crimes, borderline paedophilia, and bodily waste all feature as one continues trying to a) keep one's dinner down and b) figure out what it all means.
I'm no wiser, but I am sure that it's not entertainment.
Dusan Makavejev has certainly been among the trailblazers of personal visions, and that is the case here. I do not have the vaguest idea what he is trying to convey in this strange, almost plot-free collection of sequences, many of which seem calculated to make the audience challenge their conceptions of what can be considered acceptable viewing. The extraordinarily beautiful Carol Laure goes through a series of increasingly odd experiences until she ends up pleasuring herself while writhing around stark naked in liquid chocolate in a sequence which surprised me at how explicit it was, particularly for 1974, and especially given that it was intended for public exhibition. And this was one of the the "normal" bits. Murder, war crimes, borderline paedophilia, and bodily waste all feature as one continues trying to a) keep one's dinner down and b) figure out what it all means.
I'm no wiser, but I am sure that it's not entertainment.