H2O

I watched the movie as part of Image Entertainment's box set of Unseen Cinema. There's no way I would have sought it out otherwise. After all, what we have here is film footage of water. How could that possibly be good? Well I congratulate myself for my bloody-mindedness of watching every feature on the disc. The first minute is a bit slow, hardly-interesting figurative shots, a kind of a deliberate prelude, but then we get shot after staggering shot of coruscations, ripple effects, some barely recognisable as water. You keep on thinking that Steiner is going to run out of inspiration and then another brilliant shot appears. The dappling of the water in some shots comes as close to music as film is going to get. Being an admirer of abstract art was especially helpful for me in admiring the film's aesthetic.

Being so far removed from standard narrative film-making I would suggest that this short has limited interest to most, but for anyone interested in the avant-garde or experimental cinema this is 24-carat gold.

This is just one of many art films from the DVD collection "Unseen Cinema: Early American Avant-Garde Film 1894-1941" and it's from Disc 3. However, compared to the earlier shorts shown on this disc, this is actually a pretty normal art film. While I am sure that the beautiful musical accompaniment that is presented with the film was NOT used originally (since it came out in 1929--and probably was a silent), it fits perfectly. The entire film consists of many images of water flowing and they are intercut quite often--giving you an almost pulsing effect. The cinematography is quite lovely--showing the camera person was a real master of the art of film. It was relaxing and mindless--the sort of thing kids and hyper people would hate but which might make many people stop and pause. Artsy but not unapproachable to the average plebe....like me.

To begin with, the title of this one refers to the scientific designation of water. The film, then, is 12 minutes of just that: the element is shown in all its various forms, from the industrialized (pumped for consumption) to the natural (rivers – also tackled in a 1938 Pare Lorentz documentary I watched recently) and the atmospheric (rainfall – the subject of an upcoming effort in the Kino "Avant-Garde" collection, dating from the same year, by Joris Ivens).

There is only so much of interest (and that is primarily visual) you can glean from such material; in the final analysis, its experimental connotations have as much to do with photographic ingenuity (when catching reflections in pools of water) as editorial technique and musical underscoring.

When it comes to water, you'd be inclined to think that what you see is what you get. We've all observed rivers, lakes, ponds and puddles; there's nothing new in the notion of a water surface reflecting and refracting light. Only an avant-garde filmmaker like Ralph Steiner could possibly have envisioned any different, and his 'H2O (1929)' is a bewildering montage of aquatic images, an inane but moderately absorbing examination of Earth's most abundant liquid, and the life-blood of all living organisms. The film starts ordinarily enough, presenting the viewer with rather commonplace shots of flowing rivers and the like, before becoming fascinated by the sprays of light reflected by the water ripples. Gradually, Steiner focuses closer and closer upon these ripples, exploring water's material nature at such close range that the liquid becomes almost unrecognisable, the shifting bands of reflected light seeming to flit across the screen like some bizarre psychedelic animation. The film takes a few too many minutes to get to this point, but, once it does, the effect is rewarding.

Exactly what Steiner is attempting to communicate about the nature of water has quite eluded to me. Those well-versed in experimental cinema can no doubt invent some obscure meaning to match the film's images, but I'm content to evaluate the film based purely on aesthetics, and, certainly, various shots in 'H2O' can only be described as hypnotic. The film, which runs around ten minutes in length, opens with four minutes of mundane water shots before we get our first reassurance that something worthwhile is unfolding. The film, which will definitely not suit all tastes – and, indeed, probably sits on the border of what I find entertaining– deserves to be seen by those interested in the avant-garde movement, particularly from an era where experimentalists and surrealists were only just finding their feet in cinema {Luis Buñuel's 'Un chien andalou (1929)' was released the same year}. Additionally, if you've ever wondered what more was to be discerned from water other than two hydrogen atoms and an oxygen, then perhaps you've found your answer.

A study on water, the reflections and motions of the liquid that accentuates its ethereality and metallic beauty.

What can you say about this? It is a few minutes of water in various forms. Beautiful, yes, though without a crisp picture it really loses something. I am not quite clear on what makes it historic or why it is worth preserving over any other footage. Was there something I missed? But it does make you think about water, how important it is and how it is everywhere. Maybe someone ought to try to do this again, only with better cameras and light? Sort of seems like a precursor to Kenneth Anger... but only in the most general sense.