A difficult and dreamlike film that mixes elements of the period squalor and steam punk expressionism of an early David Lynch, with the archaic self-awareness of Guy Maddin at his most starkly referential. Institute Benjamenta, or This Dream People Call Human Life (1995) will surely repel just as many viewers as it excites; with its combination of slow, abstract, carefully composed black and white imagery and elliptical narrative structures filled with codes and ciphers managing to be both pretentious and fascinating in equal measures. At its best, the atmosphere is continually beguiling and often like nothing else we've ever experienced; with every single frame of this bizarre odyssey into the notions of fractured, nocturnal ambiance and closeted sensuality being tightly composed and beautiful to look at. However, at its worst, it is infuriatingly beyond comprehension; with the mood and the tone leading the film, almost like poetry, beyond the outdated notions of structure or momentum, and instead leaving us with a film that is overwhelming in its unique vision and design, but simply devoid of any sense of feeling or philosophy for an audience to fully grasp on to.
This isn't a flaw in itself, as cinema is ultimately beyond the trite notions of character and plot, but even then, a film should, in my mind at least, have the potential to make us think and feel. As with all great art there should be some idea attached to it; something that stands out and resonates either emotionally or intellectually (or both) that makes the process of viewing more rewarding on an entirely personal level. You have to really search for it here, and clearly, judging from the past reviews, my fellow commentators have also struggled to unearth any overall sense of meaning from the film's emptily cryptic images and emphasis on dreamlike atmospherics. If the point of the film was simply to conjure this world within the mind of the viewer, then the film is a great success; with the meandering, drifting as if sleepwalking tone of the film being both striking and evocative from the first frame until the last. That said, there's only so far we can go with lovingly choreographed sequences of dance and movement combined with the amazing use of editing and shot construction, which finds stories in even the most minor or mundane of actions, though sadly, nothing that would point to an overall theme or interpretation.
I suppose it is indicative of the directors' joint backgrounds in animation, or their fondness and appreciation for the films of Jan vankmajer or Juraj Herz, with the emphasis placed on the look and feel of the film, rather than any kind of connection to the material. Or maybe there is and we just need to look deeper; to scratch beneath the surface and persevere with the free-flowing narrative, to see the clues that lurk beneath. Regardless of how you approach it - and with these particular "flaws" in mind - the film is still a fascinating work; with that atmosphere and somewhat Eastern European look and feel of the film being unrivalled, and again, unlike anything else we've ever experienced. Added to this, the central performances from Mark Rylance and Alice Krige are both exceptionally detailed, even within such an evasive and enigmatic construct. At any rate, Institute Benjamenta is certainly a difficult film to recommend, but an even more difficult one to dismiss; with the hints of the brothers' earlier, animated work - such as Street of Crocodiles (1986) and Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies (1988) drawing obvious parallels - and combining it with an approach that is memorable and purely cinematic.
This isn't a flaw in itself, as cinema is ultimately beyond the trite notions of character and plot, but even then, a film should, in my mind at least, have the potential to make us think and feel. As with all great art there should be some idea attached to it; something that stands out and resonates either emotionally or intellectually (or both) that makes the process of viewing more rewarding on an entirely personal level. You have to really search for it here, and clearly, judging from the past reviews, my fellow commentators have also struggled to unearth any overall sense of meaning from the film's emptily cryptic images and emphasis on dreamlike atmospherics. If the point of the film was simply to conjure this world within the mind of the viewer, then the film is a great success; with the meandering, drifting as if sleepwalking tone of the film being both striking and evocative from the first frame until the last. That said, there's only so far we can go with lovingly choreographed sequences of dance and movement combined with the amazing use of editing and shot construction, which finds stories in even the most minor or mundane of actions, though sadly, nothing that would point to an overall theme or interpretation.
I suppose it is indicative of the directors' joint backgrounds in animation, or their fondness and appreciation for the films of Jan vankmajer or Juraj Herz, with the emphasis placed on the look and feel of the film, rather than any kind of connection to the material. Or maybe there is and we just need to look deeper; to scratch beneath the surface and persevere with the free-flowing narrative, to see the clues that lurk beneath. Regardless of how you approach it - and with these particular "flaws" in mind - the film is still a fascinating work; with that atmosphere and somewhat Eastern European look and feel of the film being unrivalled, and again, unlike anything else we've ever experienced. Added to this, the central performances from Mark Rylance and Alice Krige are both exceptionally detailed, even within such an evasive and enigmatic construct. At any rate, Institute Benjamenta is certainly a difficult film to recommend, but an even more difficult one to dismiss; with the hints of the brothers' earlier, animated work - such as Street of Crocodiles (1986) and Rehearsals for Extinct Anatomies (1988) drawing obvious parallels - and combining it with an approach that is memorable and purely cinematic.