Decasia: The State of Decay

The idea of stringing together disintegrating bits of nitrate film to create a collage of images embodying the frailty of human life isn't a new one, but Bill Morrison raises it to the level of art in his experimental film Decasia. The source material is varied: much of it has a documentary, even ethnographic feel, but there are also snippets from silent films that haven't survived the cruelties of time, and it's all tied together by the kaleidoscopic patterns formed by the chemical decomposition, as well as by several recurrent scenes--of amusement park rides, children being marched across a courtyard under the watchful eyes of nuns, and a dervish whirling wildly about (as well as shots of celluloid passing through developing fluid). Morrison's selection and arrangement, moreover, are hardly random, with the whole conveying the sense of transformation, from birth to death (the choice of images that float either into or out of clarity is quite deliberate, poignantly suggesting the ravages all things human necessarily suffer). And the throbbing score by Michael Gordon is an equal partner in the effect. Not a film for viewers looking for a conventional plot, but those adventurous enough to surrender to its strange beauty may find Decasia almost unbearably moving. Highly recommended. Editor's Choice. Aud: C, P. (F. Swietek)