Get ready for an effortpost boyos, because I want to gush over one of my favorite films. I first saw Baraka a few months ago, when a copy was posted to the Full Movies on YouTube subreddit. One commenter advised to watch this film on the biggest screen you can find with the best sound system you can find, while smoking a blunt the size of your finger. This would prove to be excellent advice, as my first viewing of this film absolutely blew me away.
Baraka isn't your average documentary. For starters, it has no dialogue - instead, the "story" is told entirely through long, cinematic shots paired with trance-inducing world music. The subject matter of the film is the beauty of nature, the diverse religious practices of the world, the bustle of modern life, and the oneness of humanity. Ron Fricke's cinematography is simply peerless. Each shot is woven seamlessly into the next, creating a jaw-droppingly beautiful viewing experience. If your interest is piqued, I would recommend watching the film before reading any further, as the rest of this review will contain spoilers.
The first "act" of the movie juxtaposes shots of natural beauty with shots of people around the world practicing religious rituals, suggesting a link between the two. Even though I do not believe in any gods or spirits, it's easy to see how early peoples could be awed by the natural beauty on display in the film, and dream up a supernatural creator for it all, since they lacked the scientific knowledge of natural processes we now possess.
In contrast to the serenity of the first act, the second act focuses on the alienation of modern life. We see shots of endless traffic ebbing and flowing in Manhattan, rivers of people navigating train stations, and factory workers doing the same repetitive tasks over and over again. These scenes will be familiar to anyone who has seen the 1982 film Koyaanisqatsi, primarily because Ron Fricke was also the cinematographer for that film (but not the director). This is also where Baraka's political messages start to shine. We see a shot of thousands of workers in an Indonesian cigarette factory working hard to assemble cigarettes, immediately followed by a shot of a well-dressed businessman smoking one. We see shots of thousands of chicks on conveyor belts being manhandled and de-beaked by bored looking workers (though the film stops short of showing the macerator, which I think should've been included to really drive the message home). We see shots of unhoused people around the world struggling for survival, striking shots of the destruction of war, and shots of concentration camps followed by wall-to-wall photos of people who perished in them. This part of the film is an unflinching look at the dark side of humanity.
The third act returns to a lighter tone, with beautiful time-lapse shots of ancient ruins, more religious rituals, and a stunning shot of the 1991 total solar eclipse. There is a scene exploring death by showing a cremation ceremony; many people I've shown this film to have told me they found it to be one of the most challenging scenes in the film given its graphic nature, but I personally found it to be thoughtful and serene. Throughout the entire film, we see repeated shots of different people from around the world staring directly into the camera. I interpret this as showing that we are all one people, despite our different cultures and nationalities. We are all alike; we all have hopes, joys, sorrows, struggles, people we care about, and so on. Overall, this film is a beautiful showcase of humanity.
Even though this quickly became one of my favorite films, I still can't help but disagree with the film's message of faith being the bright side of humanity, however beautifully it may have portrayed it. Religion can be a tool of violence and hatred, just as much as it can promote love and peace. A religion can be progressive in one century, and reactionary in the next. Faith can motivate, but it can also paralyze ("The fascists are taking over? Don't worry about that, god will make everything right."). To me, blindly believing in an invisible, intangible entity, whose basic existence cannot even be demonstrated, and who works so "mysteriously" that it's indistinguishable from random chance, is not a virtue. I don't need to believe in the supernatural to get by in life - my "faith" lies in the power of the people, something whose power has been demonstrated time and time again.
Despite that, I would still highly recommend this film, even to other atheists. It is, in my opinion, the greatest abstract film ever created, and it will surely hold that title for quite some time. Since there are no words, this film can be enjoyed and understood by pretty much any person on the planet, and I'm sure it will continue to wow people even a century after its release. Rarely does a film "move" me after viewing it, but for several weeks after I saw Baraka, I was filled with a renewed admiration for nature, and a deeper respect for my fellow humans. I cannot recommend this film highly enough; just watch it, and have your mind blown.