I like these guys. They look at their world through the eyes of effective filmmakers and they have a growing ability to make their eyes mine.
This is a ballsy work, a collection of insights imposed on "studies" of the environment up Route 301. This is the main north-south route along the seaboard in the southeastern states — or at least it was in the 40s and 50s. Interstate I-95 replaced it, and like with many abandoned routes, all the businesses along the way died unless they happened to be within the protective effect of sprawl.
So riding up 301 from Florida to Delaware puts you past skeletons, husks, lost memories sprinkled among the weather, accidents and punctuated buzz of life-still-lived. They've taken the time to meditate on the dross, and because Koszulinski is perceptive as hell in shooting and editing, they have a rich cinematic spine.
It has been built on a narrative of course. They have not chosen to use the history of the road as I have here, rather there are two narrative threads used. Both of these appeal to me. One is the notion of "archi-textures." I do not know the term as a visual taxonomy, nor from where they drew their breakdowns. Their visual examples did not seem to cleanly fit the categories, but that matters not at all — no, that is not right. The sequences of the film that are structured on the concepts have visual coherence that escape the categories. The editing in these sections is after the style of Stan Brakhage, but where Brakhage is purely visual and actually silly, this connects viscerally because these guys are actual filmmakers. There is an example after 22 minutes in, where the hand-held sequence jumps to a still of the same scene. This took some insight and effort
At least this worked for me, but then I think in terms of living space.
The other narrative skeleton is also something I like: the realization that the world is film, but with some symmetric inversions. For instance in film you are stationary and the world moves to and through you; on a road the experience is the opposite. There is some elaboration on this idea that works less well for me, for instance an "intermission" where at least a part of the moving world seems at rest: a train moves next to the car at the same speed.
But again, that doesn't matter because the message is that these guys are living in and thinking about the world in terms of film. They do and are willing to take a chance at engaging you in it. And that is a powerful notion.
Robert Venturi, Rudy VanderLans and their work on Route 66 have more arresting images of dead attractions for motorists, but this one has life.
A flaw is that the speaker is the filmmaker. I appreciate the purity of this, but the power of Georg's voice simply doesn't have the juice that his eyes do. I would not want one of those professional voices with artificial cadence, but an actor — better an actress — who can make the words seem more a beast of the blood.
The score works and seems to have been made to the vision. It includes some faint CB noise.
Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.
This is a ballsy work, a collection of insights imposed on "studies" of the environment up Route 301. This is the main north-south route along the seaboard in the southeastern states — or at least it was in the 40s and 50s. Interstate I-95 replaced it, and like with many abandoned routes, all the businesses along the way died unless they happened to be within the protective effect of sprawl.
So riding up 301 from Florida to Delaware puts you past skeletons, husks, lost memories sprinkled among the weather, accidents and punctuated buzz of life-still-lived. They've taken the time to meditate on the dross, and because Koszulinski is perceptive as hell in shooting and editing, they have a rich cinematic spine.
It has been built on a narrative of course. They have not chosen to use the history of the road as I have here, rather there are two narrative threads used. Both of these appeal to me. One is the notion of "archi-textures." I do not know the term as a visual taxonomy, nor from where they drew their breakdowns. Their visual examples did not seem to cleanly fit the categories, but that matters not at all — no, that is not right. The sequences of the film that are structured on the concepts have visual coherence that escape the categories. The editing in these sections is after the style of Stan Brakhage, but where Brakhage is purely visual and actually silly, this connects viscerally because these guys are actual filmmakers. There is an example after 22 minutes in, where the hand-held sequence jumps to a still of the same scene. This took some insight and effort
At least this worked for me, but then I think in terms of living space.
The other narrative skeleton is also something I like: the realization that the world is film, but with some symmetric inversions. For instance in film you are stationary and the world moves to and through you; on a road the experience is the opposite. There is some elaboration on this idea that works less well for me, for instance an "intermission" where at least a part of the moving world seems at rest: a train moves next to the car at the same speed.
But again, that doesn't matter because the message is that these guys are living in and thinking about the world in terms of film. They do and are willing to take a chance at engaging you in it. And that is a powerful notion.
Robert Venturi, Rudy VanderLans and their work on Route 66 have more arresting images of dead attractions for motorists, but this one has life.
A flaw is that the speaker is the filmmaker. I appreciate the purity of this, but the power of Georg's voice simply doesn't have the juice that his eyes do. I would not want one of those professional voices with artificial cadence, but an actor — better an actress — who can make the words seem more a beast of the blood.
The score works and seems to have been made to the vision. It includes some faint CB noise.
Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.
