The documentary that altered Cate Blanchett’s consciousness: “On a cellular level”
Sometimes, watching real life unfold can be more captivating than any fictional story, and thus the basis of the medium of documentary filmmaking, which sometimes has a greater impact when reflecting lesser-known parts of the world around us. Whether it be Architecton and the hypnotic footage of rocks cascading down a cliff or Michael Moore and his searing commentaries on American politics, there are many film lovers who are more fulfilled by the experience of connecting with authentic stories and slices of unfiltered truth, immersing them in the experiences of other people and the failings of the world around.
For Cate Blanchett, she found herself completely arrested by the experience of watching one documentary in particular, with the film famous for its mesmerising qualities and an enticing score by Philip Glass, even if not much happens.
Godfrey Reggio is one of the most fascinating documentary filmmakers of the 21st century, with an experimental tone that allows him to bend the framework of storytelling and immerse us in something akin to a tone poem. A mood washes over the audience as he encourages us to reflect on the meaning behind each of his carefully captured frame.
For many years, Reggio has concerned himself with ideas related to the modern world, our relationship with technology and the dichotomy of nature vs nurture. By doing so, he creates captivating works that aren’t explicit in their visual language but somehow communicate messages on a much deeper level, with the images burning into us and connecting us with the heart of his work.
Blanchett has always had an eclectic taste in film, and despite mostly starring in fictional works, whether it be Tár, The Lord of the Rings or Carol, her filmography could be a wish list from any aspiring actor on the directors they most want to work with. Her talents hold no limits as she collaborates with everyone from David Fincher to Todd Haynes and Terrence Malick. However, she has frequently discussed her influences and highlighted Reggio’s 1982 film Koyaanisqatsi as one of her all-time favourites.
But who knew that a documentary of the stoner persuasion would be at the top of her list, with an effect that almost makes you feel as though you are in a trance as you watch a camera drift over foggy mountains, linger over the tops of skyscrapers and follow crowds of people through busy cities. When discussing the impact the film had on her, Blanchett said it was, “Hypnotic—this film worked in me on a cellular level”.
When combined with the power of Glass’ score, which merges church-like sounds of organs with drones that grow into a frantic fervor, the film sweeps over you and lures you into a state of false comfort, only to remind you of your insignificance in the world and the force of a planet that is greater than we ever will be.
It’s a strange thing to be reminded of your place in the world and civilisation in terms of size and importance, with the film having both a grounding and dissociative effect. Nevertheless, the film remains an essential viewing and one of the most masterful documentaries made about the modern world.
