Blue

Jarman's "Blue," a feature consisting entirely of a blue screen with voice-overs, has succeeded in annoying viewers with its seemingly uninventive approach to the cinematic personal narative. As so much of what we have come to consider "good" filmaking relies primarily on our sense of sight and our ability to absorb and process hundreds of CGI critters flashing before our eyes, it is easy to forget that a "good film" relies as much if not more so on the story than it does on the visuals.

Jarman's story is one that does not need visuals to support it. Reflecting upon his life in the face of his rapidly approaching death, Jarman's memories and meditations offer the viewer (listener, really) a window into the soul of a director who is losing the most important sense he could posses: his sight. Blue was the last color available to him before AIDS related complications robbed him of his sight. As he stands before death and stares it straight in the face, Jarman's writings put forth a suprising feeling of calmness, as he has accepted his own finitude and shares his meditations with us in this, his last masterpiece.

Blue had the prestige to be the first film to be shown on television and broadcast on radio at the same time, something not likely to be challenged for a long time. Naturally this doesn't make it a good movie, and if you think the films blue screen is a gimmick then you'll probably feel the same about this, however, you'd be wrong.

Pretentious? Well, i think an hour and a half of blue screen by anyone who wasn't going blind at the time would be pretentious, with Blue he was operating within his capabilities, and at the same time giving the viewer an appreciation of what it is to be blind. You think an hour and a half of this is irritating, well I presume Jarman thought that too. Watching the blue screen isn't meant to be fun, but it certainly helps draw attention to what is being said, which is the most important part of all. There was no blue screen when aired on the radio, so you could even argue its superficiality on that point. Once you get over the fact that Jarman has robbed you of anything visual, then can you truly appreciate a very honest piece of work by a talented man

Not sure I could have made much of it without knowing at least a little backstory, and even then, it was somewhat hard to get a handle on at times. It is just 75 minutes of a blue screen, but the audio is surprisingly engaging, and there is some narrative to be found within it.

There's a good deal of spoken word, often poetic, and sometimes quite moving. Some of the snippets of music used here are also fantastic- not sure if they were sampled and if so where from, but they added a lot.

Despite the short length, had put off watching this for a while because I wasn't sure I was ever in the right mood for something this different and challenging. Even tonight, it wasn't the perfect movie for this very day, but at least now I'll know what to expect, and can maybe return to it on a day when I'm feeling like I could connect to it more.

But for the parts that did get to me, and the fact that it was an experiment that was mostly pulled off very well, a good deal of credit must be given.

Derek Jarman's final work is perhaps his most unusual. The visuals are nothing but a solid screen of bright blue. The soundtrack is a montage of sound effects, voice overs, and music. The dialogue is Derek Jarman's coming to terms with himself, and his terminal illness.

Some will find the whole affair a pretentious bore. Others will find it a moving farewell from a groundbreaking British film-maker who was completely blind by the time the film was completed. He broke the rules, especially with this film, and it's probably how he wanted to be remembered.

Losing his eyesight, Derek Jarman made this remarkable short

feature in which his diaristic reminiscences, and commentary on

his current degeneration from AIDS symptoms, are set against a

placid musical score and a cool, empty blue background.

An obviously simple idea, but what an amazingly rich one: Jarman

has created the closest movie experience to a director talking to

the inside of your head. The concomitant feelings of control-losing

peace and terrifying hallucination (one obviously starts to project

images into the blue blankness) are...well, so obviously apt, aren't

they? For a film about spirit, and about the interiorness of

everyone's reactions, BLUE is remarkably controlled in its effects.

It provides an experience adult viewers haven't had much since

childhood--of letting go and getting lost.