Cremaster 5

"Cremaster 5" successfully breaks more rules of long-form moviemaking than anything I've seen. I had to see it twice before I really got it at all, but the first time was also plenty of fun. The "Cremaster"series is profoundly hermetic. It communicates literally and symbolically on multiple levels at the same time. Thematically, it packs a wallop. Mr. Barney is uniting our current knowledge of the body with ancient esoteric formulae for nature. "Cremaster 5", the third "Cremaster" movie to be produced, is the one that tips the scales. It's also funny and poignant.

The profound tedium of the movie is mitigated only by its pretentiousness. I spent most of the movie cringing. I am deeply embarrassed for those who claim to find some value in it. Unless you think Peter Greenaway movies suffer only from having too gripping plots, I urge you to avoid Barney's films at all costs.

Yes, the cinematography is superb, a spectacle to be sure, but to throw images at an audience, no matter how intriguing they may be, with no reference other than, "Gee, isn't this pretty, or provocative or unusual," in the end is nothing but intellectual masturbation. And if the fact that in the end all of this is inaccessible to perhaps all but the filmmaker (and I am assuming his actors and crew -- evidently Ursula Andress was interested enough to sign on for this project), isn't bad enough (those who could call it visual poetry are really stretching it, IMHO), the music never matches the opulent visuals. I got the feeling looking at some of the stunning images that Barney creates, that the music is pretty lame in comparison. Quite truthfully, I wouldn't sit through this noise if it didn't have the visuals and I wouldn't want to watch the visual more than once. It's the kind of thing kids in Film School do on their first film exercise, only they don't have the huge amount of money that evidently Barney had to get this thing put on 35mm film.

About the only positive note that I can say for this pretentious extravaganza would be that mercifully, it is under an hour. BUT, that said, remember this is only one of the CREMASTER quintology. That's right, boys and girls, there are, count 'em, five of these things. The idea that people have actually suffered through four more of this man's self-indulgence....well, I guess there is more masochism out there than meets the eye.

Compared to "Cremaster 4" and especially "Cremaster 1", "Cremaster 5" is something of an improvement. It's much less silly and pretentious than those previous installments, and the annoying symbolism is a little less annoying. Throughout, there are very good visuals, and some beautiful music, but it is highly flawed. It's far too long than it should be, and it does have its fair share of eye rolling artiness, but it's still fairly fascinating.

Unlike previous "Cremaster Cycle" films, there isn't too much for me to say about "Cremaster 5". It is neither good or bad enough to get a very lengthy, detailed review. Overall, it's a decent art film that could have been better if it was a bit shorter.

Okay, I have seriously invested my time in the entire cycle, plus "restraint," several interviews and "Destricted."

I now feel qualified to report that I reject the man, though a couple of these films (Restraint and C1 in particular) gave me moments of high pleasure. I am, I discover, a man whose eye- mind prefers Greenaway, Ruiz, Maddin. Barney and Bunuel are mildly interesting voyages to the other side of town. But I find them effete, powerless. They make sloppy essays that don't reach my soul, that may be good for Budapest coffeehouse discussions, but not the sort of thing that matters.

Honestly, you can only judge an artist by the souls he touches, and Barney does have a critical mass of recruits. The best I can do is tell you why I am not among them. I need either narrative, the stuff of narrative unassembled but situated, or metanarrative... or even antinarrative. No matter what stance or how coherent, I want parts or wholes situated in a world. Don't care much about the nature of the world, as long as it exists somewhere, somehow, I can reach it.

Barney's parts are all borrowed. He didn't see them, he didn't know them, he didn't relate them — he only collects. I can get a colorful collection anywhere. Real randomness may be rare, but apparent randomness is amazingly common. I could have 12 Barneys before breakfast, and each one as sexually deviant, his only locating trait.

Ted's Evaluation -- 1 of 3: You can find something better to do with this part of your life.