Begotten

I saw 'Begotten' last night, and I'm of two minds on the film.

On one hand, I appreciate it for being the total invert of a Michael Bay film. No dialogue, extremely stylized grainy B&W photography, some of the most genuinely horrific imagery ever set to film, and a very compelling use of sound (which nobody else seems to have really picked up on yet). It's a reflection on a theme, and it dares go where most filmmakers do not not only in terms of images, but of production and concept. It's a movie that most people don't understand, and if you read through these comments you'll find a lot of people whose lack of ability to figure this film out results in them shrieking about 'pretentiousness' with the fervor of a gibbon rattling the bars of its cage at feeding time. It genuinely shocked and disturbed me, and the last time a film managed to do that was a while ago.

On the other, this is a thirty-minute short that sprawls out to over an hour and a half. I understand that there might be artistic merit in using repetition and monolithic pacing as a bludgeon, but in this case it just doesn't help everything hang together. Imagine being approached by a ragged man on the street who grabys you by the shoulders and says something that completely confounds the core of your being... but then, instead of leaving your shattered and gibbering in his wake, he just keeps talking and talking and talking. By the end of the movie, I found myself glancing at my watch now and again.

This is not entertainment, people. This is disentertainment. This is how you deprogram people who just watched "Glitter." If you watch movies to be entertained, this will frustrate, confound, and possibly anger you. You don't approach 'Begotten' like a chocolate cake you want to eat because it tastes good. You approach it like something on the menu you have never heard of before, something you see furtive glances of through the kitchen door, something that's dark and glistens and twitches on its platter; something you order not because it will taste good, but because you just have to know what it's like.

Against all my better judgement I sat captivated by this film. My watch, the sky outside, the hunger pangs in my belly becoming distant and thin. Is it a movie? I still don't know, it's more like opening up a window onto a world that exists elsewhere and just watching things happen. The stark grainy black and white is so grotesquely beautiful, it feels alien. This isn't "arthouse" filmmaking as we've come to understand the term. This is art. Living and breathing, entirely regardless of my interpretation, of my wants, or my needs in a film. If that sounds like something you want to see, by all means.

Begotten is one of those movies that's aimed at a very specific audience. It's not for people who are easily offended, or even mildly so. It's not for people who prefer easy-to-follow plots or who prefer clear, crisp cinematography. It's really for people who relish weird movies, particularly ones that Mean Something, the better to analyze endlessly. Me, I don't care so much for the over-analyzing bit, but I do like me some weirdness. And boy, does Begotten get weird. And gory.

Reasons you might not like this movie, reader: 1) It's in black and white. (I know!) 2) It has no dialogue. 3) It looks like it was shot on Super 8mm film, transferred to Betamax, copied over to cave drawings, and then digitally recorded. What I mean to say is that grainy is a word that applies here. It's kind of like the old days, when one might get a partial signal for a TV channel to which one had not subscribed. Except at no point is the signal clear in Begotten. Where was I? Oh, yeah. 4) Its religious undertones are overtones, and they're not exactly reverential. 5) There's plenty of blood and other fluids.

Now those of you who, according to the above paragraph, not like this movie should stop reading now. Are they gone? Okay, rest of you. Here's the basic plot. There are no twists – the appeal is visual, believe it or not – because there's almost no story. It begins with God killing himself through disembowelment, which somehow causes Mother Earth to be born, and then a few minutes later she gives birth to a fully formed Son of God, who's really nothing more than a shaking skeleton with some skin on him, and then they're beset by faceless cannibals, and then things get weird.

If you do watch Begotten, be sure to cleanse yourself with some wholesome Yo Gabba Gabba afterward.

When you make a film like Begotten you know it will divide people - one man's trash is another man's art. I don't think Begotten is trash and I'm not sure if it's art but I do know that it haunted me long after I saw it.

This is completely unlike any film you'll ever see. The graininess of it and the fact that you can't always make out what's going on just ups the creep out factor. It's like watching a vague memory or a disjointed nightmare play out on film.

On the downside, at only 68 minutes, it's still way too long. Each scene starts with promise but drags on and on and on...

I admire the audacity of the filmmaker and this is certainly a one of a kind work but ultimately Begotten is flawed by it's own self indulgence.

The first 3 or 4 minutes of Begotten were very promising; the graininess of the film, the obscurity of the scene in front of me, the silence, all made me feel like I was peering in on something forbidden, mysterious. I'd been told nothing of the film before I saw it except that it was "disturbing," and I thought initially that was just what I was going to get.

But after a while (and it wasn't a very long while, either) I just stopped caring. It stopped being worth the effort to struggle to discern the action going on in front of me, to piece the story of even the point of the non-story together, and sitting back and letting the imagery unfold in front of me, sort of accepting it passively for its own beauty didn't seem to work, either.

Some of the shots are beautiful, I'll admit it. And some of them are, for lack of a better word, disturbing. But I spent more of my time wondering "was this shot on film or on video, or both?" or "is that a continuous recording of crickets chirping, or is it a loop?" than "who are they, and why are they doing this?"

Because honestly I didn't care who they were, or why anything that happened on screen happened. I didn't feel any great need to. Half the time I was watching something purely abstract and non-representational, and the other half, what felt like old stock footage that someone had pieced together because they thought it looked neat, even though they had no context for what it was being shown. And it dragged on and on and on, going nowhere except where it had already been, so joy of joys, you get to see a variation on a scene that's already been beaten into the ground a couple times already, and then you get to see it again.

Mercifully, the film did eventually end, with what felt like it was supposed to be a "see, there's the point of all this" series of images, but in order to reveal the point, there needs to be a question posed in the first place, and that wasn't there. Everything just happened sort of matter-of-factly, without any emotional investment to it whatsoever, hoping it would get by on its grossness. Which it didn't. The grossness was deflated by how impossible it was to see what was going on anyway. It wasn't like peering through murk to find something you weren't sure you wanted to see. It was staring straight at the murk itself while it deluded itself that it wasn't something you couldn't bear to see.