I spent my birthday watching this heretofore unknown masterpiece with a few non-filmie friends, who were also rewarded by the experience. First-wave abstract filmmaker Richter comes to America, picks up some noir affectations and calls it narrative: fedora'd lout in ratbag apartment sets up a business reading dreams for various clients. This allows just enough structure - and HUMOR, crucially - to draw the uninitiated into its tour of Surrealism's Greatest Hits. Man Ray, Max Ernst, Marcel Duchamp, on and on and on, Richter has assembled a powerhouse crew for his dream sequences, with the likes of John Cage on music, and the segments are varied, hypnotic, and hang together perfectly, from Duchamp's patented hypno-spiral shtick to a pipe-cleaner circus scene that reminds me of Allyson Mitchell. The color is great and well used, and Richter's own conception on the end sequence ties everything together perfectly. Furthermore, while it may not 'mean' anything, there IS a 'logic' to it, I swear, although I was having too much fun letting it wash over me to pursue it very far. These old men point toward a future that hasn't even arrived yet, but seeing it makes you want to join the project. I LOVE this movie.
Review of Dreams That Money Can Buy
