Technically a science documentary but unlike anything as prosaic as PBS-TV's Nova, Deborah Stratman's Last Things belongs to a subgenre of nonfiction science features (or, in this case, short feature) that border on the semi-abstract visual essay. Proteus (2004) and Death by Design (1995) are other examples. However, this one outpaces even those in terms of non-linear inscrutability.
Mixtures of narration, sometimes in professorial-lecture English, sometimes in poetic French (often literary quotations), are heard over montages and juxtapositions of Earth-science imagery, often active crystal formation but also vintage science charts and drawings (some look like CGA computer monitors) and NASA imagery. In a typical sequence, planetary surfaces correspond with extreme closeups of rock faces. The theme is the "prehistory of prehistory," the essential building blocks of minerals—including ancient, space-born chondrites, the oldest rocks known.
These crystals, compounds, metals, and aggregates were here long before Homo sapiens arose, and, by extrapolation, will persevere long after all life on Earth goes extinct. But inorganics have had their own evolution, all the same. Mitochondrial DNA in animal cells is declared to be a legacy of living beings' mineral origins. Empty stone structures of human habitation, such as the Anasazi cliff dwellings, are compared to deposits of calcium left behind by unicellular organisms.
Music, often atonal and experimental (including some works by Brian Eno), accompanies the imagery. The film closes with off-note-edited breakdancing, leaving room for interpretation.
This is no A-to-B presentation, and it would be unlikely to have a quiz afterward. But it presents a sensation (not really a full explanation) of concepts nearly beyond the mortal mind's grasp, of deep-time geological epochs, and the processes by which molecules unite and stellar nurseries coalesce into planets, and those planets, occasionally, into life.
One thing is for sure, it gives new meaning to the pop-culture catchphrase that "rock will never die."
What public library shelves would this title be on?
Science shelves are the obvious stratum, though shelves open to "experimental" film and video are also a natural home.
What academic subjects would this film be suitable for?
Earth Science, Geology, Biology (evolutionary biology especially), and more generalized history (and/or philosophy) of science could benefit, though in more of a sense-of-wonder fashion than concrete lessons.
What type of classroom would this documentary resource be suitable for?
College-level mentalities are perhaps more attuned to the trippiness. The length is just right for an hour class session.