The trouble with this sort of lyrical film-making is that you either make a masterpiece, or a lemon: there's little middle ground. Putting it gently, this is not "Berlin - symphony of a city" or "Man with a Movie Camera". Unfortunately, it's not much to look at, either.<br /><br />The problem with this one is that it's glib and half-baked, as if Michael Moore had come on board. It doesn't really have anything to say, or rather, to show us with pictures and sounds. Koyanisqatsi uses images cumulatively to propound a thesis. This is just a patchwork in search of a point. (Though, quite inadvertently, the movie tells us more about the mind of Uncle Sam than it intends. There is something profoundly paradoxical about an anti-technology, anti-civilisation, anti-media movie that is so profoundly souped up with technology. 'Do as I say, and not as I do'. You just gotta love the Yanks, eh.) Tonally, there's something sour and misanthropic about this episode. Both the prior episodes had moments of lyricism and exhilaration; this time the tone is consistently glum. It simply doesn't work over this duration, as Gustav Mahler will tell you.<br /><br />Stylistically, Naqoyqatsi is a mess. The whizzy digital stuff is particularly misguided. It gives the whole thing a totally fussy, overprocessed look, and it also undermines the 'realist' nature of the analogue 'found footage'. (I mean, I pity the guys. Part of the joy of Koyanisqaatsi was that it was a homage to the use of optical film. But now optical film's an historical artifact, they have to 'take on board' the digital domain; but I don't think they bring it off. The digital stuff often looks like video links from CNN or BBC World.) And with the "found footage", well, the digital manipulation is often ugly, and usually just silly, and the false colour and solarisation kept me thinking of...<br /><br />...ahem...<br /><br />James Bond title sequences.<br /><br />Ahem. Odd as it may seem, there is also the possibility that the movie has been simply stolen by Yo Yo Ma's performance; it's about as unobtrusive as a Lawrence Olivier voice-over. The images would have to be jolly compelling to stack up against all that charisma.<br /><br />Philip Glass himself is on odd form; never expected him to knock off the Verdi requiem! (Made me laugh, which, of course, is not the desired response to any part of this movie). There's even one piece of music that sounds like Brahms. (?) Perhaps they've changed his pills.<br /><br />From our 'idle questions' department: is Geoffrey Reggio actually a Hopi Indian at all? Or did he just do a sweatlodge in Hollywood Hills? Oh, and are the various snippets bits of footage from earlier 'episodes' in the trilogy a commentary on the way these movies, too, are part of the global media slushy?