







Beautiful, hypnotic and, at times menacing, Koyaanisqatsi is a film of images recorded using time lapse photography set to the trance-like rhythms of a Philip Glass score. The film passes from the elemental, filmed in the vast American landscapes, and proceeds into the hurly burly cityscapes of modern American. The vast rocky expanse of the Canyonlands National Park awe through their timeless existence whilst the teaming cities rush towards exhaustion. In the modern world, the precision and dexterity of hotdog packing machines, traffic control systems and the mechanical assembly line contrast with the chaotic ballet of commuters, city traffic and assembly line workers. Throughout the film an underlying spirituality is maintained through the cathedral organ and Gregorian chants which bring calm to Glass’ hectic score, these are juxtaposed with pictograms sketched onto rocks by Fremont Indians suggesting a past unconscious of the nuclear future to come. This is a film without words but which speaks volumes.
Some films you watch; others you give in to, and this is firmly in the second camp. Plot, characters, dialogue – gone. Instead Koyaanisqatsi gives you wall-to-wall images and Philip Glass hammering a rhythm straight into your head. The Hopi title, “life out of balance”, and the prophecies at the end make it clear this isn’t just a trippy montage; it’s a warning.
Reggio eases you in with deserts and clouds, then hurls you into cities, freeways and factory lines until people look like parts of the machinery. The failed rocket launch, hanging in slow motion as it falls apart, feels like the whole film in one shot.
It dips into “film-studies fresher on a Sunday comedown” now and then, and some sections keep going after you’ve got the point. But on a big screen with the sound up, it’s mesmerising – like a live gig about civilisation quietly eating itself.