A Walk Through H

I am in no doubt that Peter Greenaway has the mind of a genius. But a genius can rant. The overall effect on me was that the film-maker was ranting to himself. This may be acceptable in shorter films, but over a certain length (15 to 20 minutes max.) the mind of the viewer expects a gear change. This is why the language of long format films is different from short films. Emotional and narrative turning points are necessary. Dramatic tension , assertive or subtle, is required to prevent disengagement. Connection with human energy encourages involvement. The only human connection was the formal voice devoid of any warmth. Therefore, even at only 40 minutes, the experience became tedious. Such a pity, as the initial sense of quest drew me in, and the graphics, and visual details were, mind blowing, literally. Halve the length, and even the ranting could become tolerable.

well previous comments that suggest that this is merely a catalogue or showcase for Greenaway's graphic work are entirely mistaken. This is easily one of the most thrilling and totally enjoyable films I've ever seen. When discussing I would compare this to feature films as - aside from its length - this short film feels as complete and expansive in scope as any epic out there. Certainly a lot of this is due to Greenaway's encyclopedic approach to things. There is a lot to take in here.

A mention should also be given to its technical competence - certainly some of the loveliest rostrum photography you'll see anywhere (Bert Walker) and the seamless camera movements at the film's beginning and end are admirable for such an early project.

critics know greenaway as a visual artist; here, his canvasses betray how good. lines stand by themselves, routes in the tale on which this is hung, somehow uninterpretable because of the unevenness of the line, the paint, the medium. the conceit would have been better supported by 50 rather than the 92 maps numerology imposes (the number of maps in a found book).

clever, ok, clever vehicle, catalogue for his graphic work.

I honestly do not know of a more engaging film. This early work was greatly expanded in vision and changed from birth to death in the later (also early) `The Falls.' But to plumb that film you must fight tedium. Not so here.

This is multilevel tour: of a museum, of the 92 drawings displayed therein, of the experiences in collecting the drawings. Each drawing is a map, so the tour is also of the journey taken. The narrator discusses the acquisitions and the journey as assisted by a Tulse Luper. But we learn that the purpose of the journey is for the narrator to be reborn as the ornathologist Tulse Luper.

The maps, the avian companions, the music, and the narrated story meld perfectly. The 92 appears later in `The Falls,' also associated with birds, and in `ZOO' (4x23).

The most important map comes from a birdcounter in the Amsterdam Zoo named Van Hoyten. It is from this person that the soul is stolen. He appears later in `ZOO' as now manager of that Zoo with no legs and a strange bias against black and white animals.

At this writing, Greenaway is making a complex multimedia project called Tulse Luper's Suitcase, seemingly quite dense. The 92 appears there as well. It is a personal history of Uranium, whose atomic number is 92. > I highly recommend that you seek out this film. I saw it on a compilation tape which included `Phones' and `Water Wrackets,' both clearly minor exercises.

I've been reviewing some of what I think Greenaway is all about: multi-layered imagery and deep narrative games ("Prospero's Books", "The Pillow Book") and humorous, out-of-this world funny and witty explorations of film as a visual medium ("The Falls"). This film falls to the latter category, and I'm more and more falling in love with the latter films as well.

Bearing in mind that I was so hooked on Greenaway some ten years ago, at the time of the "Tulse Luper Suitcases" projects, that is to say, to his newer fare. This and "The Falls" were the two early films that struck a chord with me, but now, after having been away from them for a very long time, it's these two films I feel like coming home to. That which is missing in "later" Greenaway, say, from "Prospero's Books" (1991) onward, is here in abundance.

Not only visually satisfying, narratively ambitious and laugh-out-loud funny, "A Walk Through H" is a remarkably cohesive and entertaining film. This is like moving to another country and realizing one has learnt a new language without trying. It's an eye-opener in terms of everything Greenaway means to me, and also what I think he means to himself, or at least wishes us to believe. While his theses concerning what film should be can lose their glitter after a while, the ideas he presents in his films are remarkable and radical. Whether it be an introduction, another bus stop or the final destination in terms of all Greenaway, "A Walk Through H" earns my highest recommendations.