The Act of Seeing with One's Own Eyes

Now obviously, this film may sound silly. The film itself is basically a 40 minute film without narrative or opinion. It is simply a film depicting autopsy on dead bodies. At first this sounds gross and disgusting, but in reality, the skin of dead bodies are really nothing much other than dirt, or at least soon to be. The idea of this being gross can be pulled out of the fact that these bodies were once alive. Yes, we see images of the insides of their bodies. We see their brains and skull. We see the cuts being placed on their skin and then being opened to reveal a massive doorway to intestines, bone, blood,liver, veins, and other things. We do not know what kinds of things that these bodies did when they were alive and moving. We are not even shown what their facial features are like really. We just see their bodies being opened and examined. Stan Brakhage, an experimental filmmaker, doesn't consider that his audience may want to know these things. Or maybe he does but is not interested enough to show us. This way, we can leave our concerns behind and hope to get something out of these gruesome things. We may or may not, but the idea of this sort of meaning is enough to watch it more than once, if not to see if we react or see something differently.

(I watched this film as part of the DVD short film collection of Stan Brakhage entitled, BY BRAKHAGE: AN ANTHOLOGY.)

Perhaps I'm misattributing my own scientific, atheistic tendencies, but I've found that many of Stan Brakhage's early films seem to argue for Man as an animal, an organic vessel with primitive urges. 'Window Water Baby Moving (1959)' documented the act of parturition in unflinching detail, depicting childbirth, not as the "miracle" suggested in more romantic sources, but as a perfectly natural, albeit remarkable, mammalian event. 'Thigh Line Lyre Triangular (1961)' did something similar, but this time clouded by the subjectivity of human perception. 'Mothlight (1963)' likened humans to moths, attracted to the flickering lights of a cinema screen as an insect is to a lightbulb. No film achieves this aim more effectively than the blunt, cheerless silence of 'The Act of Seeing With One's Own Eyes (1971).'

The film's title is a literal translation of the Greek word from which "autopsy" is derived. The 32-minute film was photographed at the Allegheny Coroner's Office in Pittsburgh, and documents the routine dissection of cadavers. This isn't for the faint-hearted. Brakhage often zooms in for shaky, unclear close- ups of the patients' bodily organs, removing the viewer's customary frame of reference, and leaving abstract images that are unsettlingly disconnected from our everyday experience. Skin is peeled back from the anonymous faces, organs are removed. The camera occasionally lingers on the patients' genitalia. In life, these were organs of sexual attraction, upon which so much importance was placed; now we see that they are merely insignificant pieces of flesh. Only death, it seems, can bring such things into perspective.

As a zoology student, I've dissected frogs, pigeons, rats. The internal layout of a rat isn't all that different from that of a human (except, most noticeably, for the testicond gonads). At the end of the autopsy procedure, we are left with an empty vessel. Everything that makes us human – emotion, intelligence, culture – is regulated by the brain, and, once that dies, we're just another conglomeration of organic molecules. Indeed, were we ever anything else? 'The Act of Seeing With One's Own Eyes' was not an easy nor enjoyable film to watch, but it did force me to see the true state of the human condition: that we're animals, nothing more, and that ultimately we're all destined for the operating table.

Shot by Mr. B in a busy metropoliton morgue. The recently deceased are prepared for embalming by technicians we barely see. Hands wearing rubber gloves open torsos with scalpels. Heads are opened and brains are removed. Real people are pulled apart and thrown away. Who were they? Who are we? Grainy 16mm color stock. Available light. Moderately long lenses. No sound. No music. Silence.

The titles comes from the literal translation for the Greek word 'Autopsy". And that's exactly what this film is . 32 minutes of intense, hand-held photographing of several autopsies in extremely explicit detail.

While the film is, by nature, shocking, and sometimes hard to watch, it's far from exploitational or sensationalistic. It invites us to meditate on life, death, the body, what miracles we all are, how fragile we all are, how alone we all are in the end, and yet how alike we all are. What is a human? What were these people like in life? Are all we are really just the blobby masses of brain we see being removed, leaving only empty skull cavities? Why is the film stomach turning? Why is it so hard to look at what is inside us all? Brakhage raises all these questions, and they are valuable and unsettling to consider.

That said, for me, the film could have been shorter. It started to feel repetitive, which I'm sure was part of the intent (watching ourselves become inured to images that only minutes earlier seemed deeply disturbing), but there was a point near the end where I started to feel I had gotten what I was going to already, including that last idea.

This 30 minute documentary on three human autopsies is one of the most disturbing yet intruiging things that I have ever seen on film. If you can imagine it, they show it. Everything but the corpses faces are shown. But I am willing to bet that if Brakhage was allowed to show the faces he would have. This movie delves into the idea of human curiosity and vision like never done before. A thinker.