Invocation of My Demon Brother

I watched this last night for the first time, on the "Films of Kenneth Anger Vol. 2" DVD, and to me this was probably the most intense of the set. Between the droning, obnoxious score (by Mick Jagger, of all things), and the changing film speeds, this film really did invoke feelings of, if not really a nightmare, then definitely an altered state, and not a real fun one at that.

But the capper for me was the use of Bobby Beausoleil (sp?), who was one of Manson's killers. This footage was apparently shot only a couple of years before Bobby (sorry, not trying to imply too much familiarity, but I'm really sick of typing his last name, it hurts my brain) murdered Gary Hinman. The footage of Bobby, combined with the knowledge of what he's gonna do in a couple of years, just creeped the f**k right out of me.

So, I did like this, and I'd recommend it to folks interested in Anger, or in weird sixties head trips & the dark side of psychedelia, but I'm really glad I didn't watch it under the influence. It probably would have wound up occupying a "special" place in my brain, and I don't mean a good happy place.

Don't listen to the guy above, since he thinks all art films are supposed to hold your hand, and tell you what to think and believe. This film is obviously an artifact of subjective, artistic expression (like all real art usually is). But I happen to think it's genius. Just because I don't like the images (which I in fact do) doesn't dis-validate it as art. Art is not for entertainment, as it is the allowance of the artist to express themselves in a certain language/form/deliverance.

This film can be interpreted as a view on the artist's fascination with the occult, life, or just certain images in general. Some parts remind me of how sensitive we are to certain images, and so on. Every film isn't like Hollywood, tied up with a neat little bow, were can all hold hands and skip down the yellow brick road. Sometimes, it portrays what goes on the psyche of certain people. Look at Jordorwosky, for instance.

There is a difference between "trippy" and "psychedelic." "Trippy" is what people who mostly have never had psychedelic experiences ascribe to weirdness in art, and "psychedelic" is art - be it music or film or whatever - that simulates or outright induces a state of altered consciousness as a proxy or alternative to psychedelic drugs, dream states, meditation, etc.

People really like to pat themselves on the back a lot in their neurotic quest to dismiss all 60s or occult techniques, imagery, sounds, tropes, whatever. I can understand this to some degree. A lot of the 60s was just goofy. The case I'd make for this and Lucifer Rising is that this is about as good as this kind of thing can be done.

It is not for everyone.

Here Anger turns everything up to 11 in a relentless torrent of Thelemic, Satanic, and Nazi imagery, nudity, drug use, and blasphemy.

This is a psychedelic film or, I guess, if you're just too hip or grounded or intellectual or contemporary or whatever for Kenneth Anger, an attempt at one. The purpose here is to get on top of you, by which I mean, tap a nerve. This is a torrent of input - visual and aural - pumped mercilessly into the viewer's senses.

The disturbing soundtrack, varying film speeds, interlaced light effects and occult imagery (flashing unicursal hexagrams, etc.) are clearly meant to unsettle and induce a state of altered consciousness of some sort, but in my case it just kind of made me uncomfortable. In a good way. This is not to say a pleasant way. An effective way. (Is this film itself, a magickal working of sorts?)

I can't help it. I like this, even if I don't *enjoy* it exactly. This is not an exploitation film. This is the real deal: the Age of Horus spontaneously exploding through (and nearly obliterating) the Age of Aquarius.

Evil hippies, man.

I found this nightmarish, frantic, and disconcerting. I suppose if you can simply dismiss the whole of the 1960s and the whole of the occult of the time, you can dismiss this, too. I'm just not that cool I guess.

Worth a watch as art and as film-making with a different purpose than usual (while this is entertaining, I don't think this was conceived of as primarily "entertainment").

There's no plot here. If you need one, don't bother. Watch with an open mind.

Then go to Church after.

You don't have to be a scholar of the avant-garde/experimental scene to realize that Kenneth Anger IS trying to invoke something with his short film. A hypnotic nightmare, a devilish delirium, a dervish dance, a chaotic panorama of sights and sounds plucked straight from the late sixties hippie melting pot, pulsating with frenzied energy, convulsing and threatening to spiral out of control at every turn. The imagery Anger employs is an eclectic mix of Hell's Angels denim, occult liturgy, caleidscopic nightmares, religious iconography, hell, he even throws a Nazi flag in for good measure, and everything coalesces in a helter skelter of diabolic psychedelia. Yet what must have been a completely alien experience back in 1969 seems familiar territory by now - mostly because a lot of what Anger was doing back then, both in terms of imagery and execution, has been appropriated by the music video industry the past twenty years. Speaking of music, Mick Jagger's hypnotic score was as ahead of its time as the film itself. A must-see for the adventurous viewer.

This is from the second DVD of a set called "The Films of Kenneth Anger"--a collection of avant garde films by this odd film maker. I found the first disk to be more satisfying--the second has a lot about Aleister Crowley and Satanism that I found a bit dreary.

This film is purely for someone who loves art films and has a very, very high tolerance for this sort of thing. While my tolerance is higher than the average viewer, I found this entire short filled with self-indulgence and silly imagery. I am sure that the folks who made this film loved it, as did their friends, but I seriously doubt that more than 1 or 2 in 100 who might otherwise see it actually enjoying the film. It's just NOT a film for the average viewer.

It consists of lots of bizarre imagery, an albino, references to Satanism and various ancient religions, rituals, pot use, dead cats, dead cat heads, a visit from Anton LaVey (founder of The First Church of Satan) in Satanic regalia (looking a lot like 'Hot Stuff' the cartoon character, actually) and lots of crotch shots of naked men. To each his own...

By the way, for a great practical joke, show this to your mother or some of your friends and insist with a straight face that it's the greatest film ever made. Then wait to see their reactions! Be sure to get it all on video or digital film.