Smithsonian World: Doors Of Perception

While PBS programming is consistently very high in quality, the Smithsonian World series has been notably erratic with great programs like A Moveable Feast and A Certain Age on the one hand, and muddled shows like Gender: The Enduring Paradox and this new one, on the other. Doors of Perception boasts, as do all the S.W. shows, superior production values--in fact, the series is one of the slickest looking on public television. But, like commercial television, it's a series where glitz often takes precedence over insight. Doors of Perception opens with a thumbnail sketch of mystic poet/painter William Blake, offering quotes from his poetry and close-ups from some of his more hellish and beatific paintings. Following this superficial treatment of an extremely complex thinker (Blake is used as a symbol, or narrative hook, on which to hang the program--an ethereal, if not terribly sensible, choice), the scene shifts to interviews with experts about mind-altering drugs. In this section, we get an excellent historical overview of cocaine's history--and not much else. In rapid-fire succession, we visit a meditation center, a Carmelite monastery, a witch named Andrew, a Sufi mystic dance, a stateside dance company, a leader in the field of virtual reality, and flaky artist Robert Irwin. Dance is a subject which crops up frequently in producer Sandra Wentworth Bradley's S.W. films--it must be a personal interest, since it often has nothing to do with the subject at hand. Here, dance is treated with reverent and ludicrous hyperbole:"...gestures of ritualistic exactness flow from the dancer to create their own eternal worlds." Say what? This is not an interview quote, it's from the show's written narration. Now, there's nothing wrong with making a program revolving around a lot of folk who don't have both oars in the water, just as long as the filmmakers don't go ozone too. Doors of Perception is a cornucopia of confusion, rather than the enlightened assessment of an interesting subject that it should have been. Not recommended. (See AMERICAN PATCHWORK: JAZZ PARADES--FEET DON'T FAIL ME NOW for availability.)