Blue

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.

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.

Derek Jarman's "Blue" is amazing. the blue screen amplifies the sad and vivid sound-track. at times fast, at times slow. Jarman's dark sense of humor peaks out every now and then. very hard to watch the whole movie with out a break. a great sound-track for a long drive in the car.

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.

Jarman's masterpiece was always going to attract a lazy criticism from the mainstream mindset: pretentious, trendy, self-indulgent etc.

But to dismiss it out of hand as no better than a first year art student's project is to fail to appreciate the rich narrative.

The coldness of the blue focusses the mind on what Jarman has to tell us, perhaps far better than any other colour would've done. We cannot help but listen, and take in one very gifted man's grim yet positive perspective on gay life, and a slow death through AIDS.

Brian Eno's musical score is stark and haunting, with passages of female vocal harmony that are strongly influenced by contempory sacred music from Eastern Europe.

Watch this film with an open mind: Force yourself to keep staring into the blue yonder, and it will empower you with a new level of vision and perspective.