Cremaster 4

I'm seeing these in numeric order, which I must assume was some sort of intent. So far, the first was important and effective. It mattered to me. The second was overloaded with storysense that showed flat stupidity. The third was similar but overloaded with random symbols. Along the way, I saw "Drawing Restraint" and it was every bit as good as number 1.

The advantage of this is that the symbols are few, the symbolic structures simple and obvious, the posturing plain. Its still uninteresting. He's still not a deep man unless he thinks in images, environments rather than objects.

In this case, there's a race, an underground vagina and a sterile terminus for both.

Boring.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.

NOTE: Quotation marks are used throughout this review, because words like "main character" and "adventure" seem too conventional for such an experimental "movie".

Matthew Barney comes off as pretty immature and pretentious after watching "Cremaster 4", but it's also clear that he has the ability to make great art. I have yet to see any of his other films, and I've made it my mission to watch every single installment of "The Cremaster Cycle" within the next month or so. It may be a tough task, but I will try my hardest. However, if ALL of his "Cremaster" films are just like this one, it's very likely that I will be forced to give up, because this was utterly uncomfortable to sit through.

There were a few things about it I liked. The "main character" was this interesting and creepy goat like tap dancing creature. There's something about his look that really intrigued and fascinated me, and most of his "adventure" (I use this term lightly) was at least mildly appealing to me. I mostly enjoyed the brief part in which eh was underwater, because it contributed to the film's interesting, fantasy like approach.

I didn't like how damn uncomfortable the film made me! At times it was really, really disgusting. But, it wasn't CONVENTIONALLY disgusting. In fact, I can't explain very well why some of the images came across as so icky to me, they just did. The film has an overall uncomfortable atmosphere, but it was also very pretentious. Personally, I dislike using the word pretentious a lot, and I've defended many artist's who have been called pretentious in the past, but there's something about this film that felt extremely pretentious to me. Sexual symbolism is something that is constantly annoying to me when it comes to art cinema. Sometimes, it is done to interesting effect, but most of the time it's show offy and just plain bothersome.

While "Cremaster 4" has interesting imagery throughout, I felt like it was needlessly off putting (and, trust me, I like off putting things! My favorite movie of all time is "Eraserhead"!) and had really pretentious sexual symbolism.

Cre·mas·ter

noun 1.

ANATOMY the muscle of the spermatic cord, by which the testicle can be partially raised.

2. ENTOMOLOGY the hooklike tip of a butterfly pupa, serving as an anchorage point.

This inceptive entry of the 5-part series plays like a low-budget Charley and the Chocolate Factory with buff, nude Oompa Loompas who exist circuitously in a Teletubbies-esque environment, but if the show's creators had been on copious amounts of methamphetamines. We primarily witness a crosscutting between a tap-dancing devil figure - who eventually must crawl through a viscous, uterine tunnel, as if being born into the world - and two separate, futuristic race cars which speed off from each other in opposite directions. A Lynchian sound design plays over Cronenbergian visuals - one example of which is gelatinous embryos that ooze from the pockets of the race car drivers, whose midsections are shot at a close up to appear like separate, slimy organisms. Barney's medium combines filmic techniques, with 3D art-instillations, and stop motion to create a singular pastiche. Plotless and entirely absurdist, this series, I can tell, will be perfect for me but certainly not for everyone. The final shot is of a close up of a pair of testicles being stimulated by prolonged metal objects. Enter into the Cremaster Cycle at your own discretion.

Glacial pacing and ridiculous mythopeia are more than compensated by the uniqueness of his vision, and the gutsiness of his approach. Well worthwhile for discerning viewers. Lovely music, great sets, but it's really a filmed document of his static art.

I don't know how well this - or the other four - work in a gallery, surrounded by other paraphernalia of the art and a concept. I suppose, the art is all in walking between objects and piecing together a reflection that is directly related to the way they enabled you to pace your mind. This is very much a work of art, and I have railed against that in others of my posts, art in the sterile sense of a system that solely exists to organize eccentricity. Dreary stuff.

But as a film? It has some flow and rhythm, but at the level where it's supposed to have sense - and I don't mean 'sense' as a substitute for desktop logic, the other sense that is life - all of it is puerile and self-important at best.

Please, let this not be just about maleness being swallowed by a mysterious womanhood (sea - tunnel - crawlspace filled with a doughy substance). Please, let the male drive not be represented by a mindless repetitive motor race. Reading a bit on the concept of these films, it seems to be that way.

I am willing to cut it some slack, hoping this was only the lowest level of a cosmology that is expanded in future installments.

But so far, stick with Talk to Her. This is all vaginal folds with none of that film's dance into soul.