Man With a Movie Camera

Watching Russian filmmaker Dziga Vertov's 1929 experimental silent classic today--presented with Michael Nyman's (The Piano, Gattaca) wildly exuberant 2002 musical score for the film--one is immediately struck by the similarities to the Godfrey Reggio/Philip Glass 1983 collaboration Koyaanisqatsi, which also presented an extended snapshot/commentary on the culture in non-narrative, purely cinematic terms. In an arresting array of images and sequences "without intertitles, scenarios, sets, actors, etc.," Vertov's cameraman captures life in the city and outlying areas (shot in Moscow, Odessa, and Kiev) from dawn-to-dusk--people waking up, filling the streets, working on factory assembly lines, visiting a government office for marriage or divorce papers, relaxing at the beach, enjoying a beer at a pub, and finally, going to the cinema. Throughout, we witness the voyeuristic, celebrative, condemnatory, even mechanical nature of documentary filmmaking itself--as we see the cameraman furiously hand cranking the camera while racing alongside his subject (women in a car, for instance), or the editor hand-splicing sequences together (scenes that may contrast, for example, shots of people in beauty shops or at the barber with images of backbreaking manual labor), and--in a fantastic closing bit--the camera coming to life in stop-motion animation, looking out at the audience as if to invite viewers to watch. Innovatively filmed, creatively edited (the cuts sometimes move at a blink of the eye rate that makes MTV look downright lethargic), and gloriously scored (if you like Michael Nyman's music--and in the oft repeated words of Elizabeth Taylor, "I do"--then you'll love this), Man With a Movie Camera is a seminal work in the history of cinema and surprisingly fun to watch. Highly recommended. (R. Pitman)