Ron Fricke & Mark Magidson

Baraka

of ‘stories’ or themes. Like the Qatsi trilogy from which it takes inspiration – director Ron Fricke worked as cinematographer on Koyaanisqatsi – Baraka is not immediately recognisable as what audiences may know as ‘cinema’. Saying that however, Baraka is exactly what cinema is: storytelling with the aid of the moving image. In a similar way that Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey was almost absent of plot or lead characters – Space and the universe was the main performer in 2001 – the landscapes and locations act as the protagonists in Baraka.

Even in the introductory shots of Baraka it’s almost impossible to tell that 20 years has passed since its original release. Such is the clarity of image and fearless use of 65/70mm camera technology that Baraka remains a timeless feat in the history of cinema. Like its recent counterpart, Samsara, Baraka is a strictly non-verbal narrative film where the images presented tell a series

Words ByJack Jones

‘Such is the clarity of image and fearless use of 65/70mm

that Baraka remains a timeless feat in the history of cinema’

‘Such is the clarity of image and fearless use of 65/70mm

that Baraka remains a timeless feat in the history of cinema’

Shifting between continents and civilizations, sometimes in a single cut, Fricke navigates the world and its many treasures. But does Baraka work on the same level now as it did 20 years ago? Surely our world has drastically changed? Remarkably, by revisiting similar themes in Samsara, Fricke has reminded us how little our world has changed in the years since Baraka’s

first release. In our own scepticism the world may seem a small and discovered land. But to Fricke and co-collaborator Mark Magidson there are vast treasures and wonders still left unearthed, and ready to be d i s c o v e r e d . Dissenters have accused Baraka of being a glorified travelogue that ultimately amounts to very little. In that analysis is an assumption that Baraka

has an overarching message to preach. The fact remains that Baraka is intentionally a film that must be experienced as opposed to analysed. There is a wonderful quality to Baraka that almost defies critical analysis and note taking. Such is the dream like quality of the film that unless you immerse yourself the effect will be that of a empty slideshow – although a gorgeous one at that.

With some of the finest photography that you are ever likely to see on screen, the opportunity to revisit Baraka is one that cannot be missed. In only a few breathtaking sequences you are transported thanks to the large and enveloping nature of the 70mm format. And however much digital may evolve, it seems that no technology has ever been as well-suited in capturing man and his planet.