Ron Fricke
Samsara

Usually, when thinking about the most beautiful films from a purely aesthetic and visual standpoint, masterpieces like Barry Lyndon or 2001: A Space Odyssey by Stanley Kubrick, Citizen Kane by Orson Welles, The Conformist or The Last Emperor by Bernardo Bertolucci, etc., come to mind. However, there are films unknown to most that can evoke immense emotions with just a single frame, maybe a frame with nothing particular in it except a breathtaking landscape.

This is the case with Samsara by Ron Fricke, a documentary without words, only music and images, from 2011. Shot over about 5 years around the world, it is a film that, thanks to its music—which ranges from oriental to tribal to dubstep (I think? I'm not very familiar with this type of electronic music)—and simply marvelous images, manages to provoke thought without uttering a word; it says a lot without saying anything. If you will, Samsara borrows heavily from the montage experiments of Soviet cinema from the '20s, particularly the famous Kuleshov effect, because the sense and message of Fricke's film is conveyed almost exclusively through editing. Let me explain: often the scenes are spatially and stylistically very different from each other, making the film, at a very superficial glance, a hodgepodge (to borrow a term dear to a well-known chef). However, it is precisely the juxtaposition of such different scenes that gives the entire work a meaning, which must be interpreted and, therefore, could vary from viewer to viewer.

Personally, I believe that Ron Fricke, through the juxtaposition of scenes set in the Far East, among Buddhist monks, or in African tribal villages, and scenes that show life in large metropolises, wanted to propose a return to a peaceful life, free from the hustle and bustle that characterizes more developed countries: indeed, in the former, the director (who also took care of the cinematography) often uses fixed shots or, in any case, very slow camera movements, while in the latter he very often uses almost anxiety-inducing time lapses, showing how quickly we live our lives. Fricke uses the time-lapse technique in another type of scene as well: those that show only landscapes, without human figures, making the sun rise and set in just a few seconds. I believe there is an abyssal difference between these two types of scenes, despite using the same technique: the speeding up of time in the latter does not create anxiety and frenzy but peace and tranquility.

In the second part of the film, set exclusively in the technologically and economically advanced world, Ron Fricke captures with an extremely severe gaze the humanity populating these environments: from the production of meat in gigantic animal "camps" to the consumption of food as tasty as it is harmful in fast food. Fricke's camera lens is always attentive to capturing the drama of modern life in developed countries, just as it is to capturing the poetry of the lives of (what I believe to be) Tibetan monks and African tribes.

I believe the key scene of this documentary is the one where an office worker starts covering himself with muddy products, ending up resembling those very backward peoples living in Africa. But he is desperate. Desperate because, even if he tries to resemble them, he will never manage to lead an equally serene life and will remain forever trapped in that vortex of frenzy and repetitiveness to which we have become accustomed.

In conclusion, this film is a true masterpiece and, in my opinion, the most beautiful film ever from a purely visual standpoint (I already know this statement will provoke the ire of many). Highly recommended but, at the same time, not recommended for those who, like me, suffer from Stendhal Syndrome because they might feel unwell during certain scenes. It happened to me. Super recommended, however, to everyone else.