User reviews

Godfrey Reggio's Koyaanisqatsi (1983) is a film with no actors, no storyline, and no dialogue. The only things we see during the experimental documentary's 87 minutes are natural landscapes, images of cities, and real people going about their regular lives. Yet from the very beginning, when we see the title of the film appear in blood-red characters and hear the voice of a bass soloist chanting the title like an incantation, it is difficult not to be swept away in captivation.

Filmed between 1977 and 1982, Reggio's film was noticed by directing great Francis Ford Coppola who eventually agreed to finance the project and give it chances for distribution. Minimalist composer Philip Glass was optioned to compose the score, and the result was, quite simply, astounding.

Koyaanisqatsi is a collection of familiar images presented through tinted lenses (figuratively speaking). The experimental nature of the project can be seen in the reduced and augmented speeds of images, the use of carefully manipulated edits, and the use of Glass's score to create ambience. There are times when the film exhibits an almost surreal quality more indicative of a twisted, futuristic, dystopian sci-fi epic than of our mundane world.

This is, however, what makes Koyaanisqatsi so successful. In presenting our world in a disquieting, unflattering light, the film forces us to ruminate on our place in the universe and the consequences of many of our actions. The film starts with serene, austere images of mountains, oceans, and forests, and the repetitiveness of Glass's score does not bore us nor call attention to itself, but simply washes over us, entrancing us and instilling a sense of tranquility.

It is not long before the untainted images are replaced by nuclear power plants, highways, skyscrapers, rubble, fire and ash, and hoards of ant-like beings (humans, of course) scurrying through modern urbanity. Most times, humans are filmed at low-frame settings (making for faster speeds), and as a result, they seem frenzied, compulsively making their way through the cities in a manner that seems more conditioned than voluntary.

Glass's score responds by heightening its tension and adding a semi-brutal nature to its repetitiveness. It is somewhat aversive, but at the same time exhibits a humorous and mocking quality. By cramming together so many images of humans behaving more like lab rats than higher, thinking beings and increasing the satirical nature of the score, the film invites us to consider just how depersonalized, mechanized, and out-of-control many aspects of our life are.

The conclusion of the film contrasts against the blackly comic nature of the previous section by instilling a sense of mourning and warning. As such, there is undoubtedly a political and environmental component inherent in this film, but this is the aspect that is, in my mind, most often misunderstood. Many critics (mostly detractors) have interpreted Koyaanisqatsi as a call to action, an invective that demands that we atone for the rape-like pillaging the human race has thrusted upon the natural environment. Following from this, these critics claim that the film's message is that we would enjoy the planet more if we were not here at all, thus presenting a contradiction, since we would not be here to enjoy it.

In my own personal view, the flaw here resides in viewing the film as a tirade and a call to action. I find Koyaanisqatsi very clearly to be not a cry for reform, but a demand for awareness and meditation. There is an inevitability in the actions of human beings and their disregard for the care of their surroundings, and the wonderful thing about this film is that it forces you to experience the consequences and at least take notice of what each of us is contributing. It does not let you get away with indifference and nonchalance.

For me, however, the political component is less important than the stylistic component, which is one near and dear to my heart: the use of music to enhance the forcefulness of images. I acknowledge the fact that some will not be able to stand the repetitiveness of Philip Glass's score (and it is very repetitive at some points). But if one can consider the motive behind the repetition, the music ceases to be oppressive and becomes sublime and entrancing. The score adds impact to an already stunning array of unforgettable images, the details of which I will not go into, so that one may see the film with fresh eyes.

I saw Koyaanisqatsi for the first time at a performance in which the visuals were projected onto a giant screen with the soundtrack being supplied by Glass and his ensemble, who had come for a live performance. I had barely made it in time, since I struggled to find a parking space and was drenched from running in the rain. The moment the film started, however, all of the accumulated tensions in my body completely dissipated. It was not at all a cerebral experience, but an instinctive one in which I enjoyed the images and sounds for their own sakes.

When I left the performance, I was in a hypnotic daze, transfixed by what I had just seen. My initial impressions haven't changed to this day. I loved this film, and while the political and environmental concerns it addresses are important, what really makes this film for me is the instinctive, visceral power of its images and sounds. Koyaanisqatsi maroons its audience in an alternate version of reality that sheds disturbing light on our lives, and yet at the same time, it produces an unforgettable cinematic experience that is pervasively engrossing.

A welcome assault on the senses, 'Koyaanisqatsi' is not for the impatient or nervous. You have to give it time because it is slightly dull in the very beginning, as the music and landscapes are fairly ordinary. Once it gets going, its really fascinating. Some gorgeous images, none generated by a computer I might add, and a soundtrack to match the intensity makes this a unique movie experience. I saw it on the big screen when it was first released, and it was MUCH better than on my not-that-big television.

One of the things I also like about this movie is the fact that since there is no dialogue, it can be shown in any country in the world unchanged. We would all see it the exact same way. I like the idea of that very much.

We are but dust and grime upon the face of the earth...

When this visual opera of the senses was released, somehow I managed to miss it for all these years. Only now, have I been able to get a DVD and feast myself to one of the most mesmerizing documentaries I've seen. Now I can get to see the sequels...

In the twenty-five years since its release, nothing much has fundamentally changed. The only real difference is that the scale of life out of balance has ballooned to the point where humanity has finally realized – perhaps too late – that we are indeed on the path to self-destruction unless radical steps are taken to change our ways. Some might argue that I'm too pessimistic and point to the Montreal protocol (it set the wheels in motion to stop using CFCs that were causing the depletion of the earth's ozone layer) as proof that we can pull together when danger is imminent.

Perhaps true...but the problem is that many still don't think that life on earth – not in the upper atmosphere – is truly out of balance. This documentary takes us all back to what it was like all those years ago – and, as you will see or have seen on your TV news programs today, it's now all that much worse...

The metaphors abound, beginning with Earth, Air and Water as the three dominant and necessary conditions that permit life on this planet, then relentlessly but gradually, showing how humanity changes the very conditions that support balanced life. Mountains explode, fires consume, people increase and multiply together with the trappings humanity needs to keep consuming: traffic jams, food and automobile production, steel and glass monuments to Mammon – surely a parody of Kubrick's images of the monolithic Sentinel in 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) – freeways that look like arteries with blood coursing through veins, images from space that show glowing cities which morph into electronic circuits for computers – we've become the machines we've invented – and, of course, the milling millions, moving through life as though they are the walking dead, oblivious to all except the self and self-gratification.

It is at once a pretty picture and a damning one – of particular note, the sequenced implosion of the abandoned Pruitt-Igoe housing complex in St Louis, designed, ironically, by the architect of the World Trade Center, Minoru Yamasaki.

The music very sensibly doesn't belabour the use of the title; it's chanted only during the opening sequence and during the finale which, in my opinion, is the most stunning tracking shot I've seen yet as the camera follows the detritus from an exploding rocket (a Russian one, I think) plunging back to earth. For the rest of it, just sit back, let the music waft over and through you as you watch your future begin.

This is a film that everybody should see at least once.

Make no mistake -- you need to get into the right mood to properly enjoy this film. Try watching it with your cynical or populist friends and they'll pour scorn upon it. Don't try to convince others to 'get it' as they won't.

The best thing to do is to turn off all of the lights, pump up the sound and absorb yourself in the spectacle that unfolds on the screen. If you do this, you'll experience one of the most breathtaking, moving and exciting pieces of art ever. There are few films that reach these heights -- 2001: A Space Odyssey is the only one that instantly comes to mind.

Don't analyse it until it's finished. Talking through it will ruin it. I've found that the film works best on an emotional level so switch your brain off and just watch and listen. By the time it's finished, you'll feel like you've been on an exhausting and exhilarating journey that you'll want to take again not long afterwards.

Godfrey Reggio's magnificent documentary "Koyaanitsqatsi" was an amazing experience when it first came out more than twenty years ago. Watching for a second time, this time in DVD format, one realizes how this movie makes the case that it must be seen in the big screen in order to get all the brilliant cinematography in its proper perspective. Even watching it in a 32 plasma screen, one realizes it pales in comparison when projected on a larger movie theater screen.

The images that are presented in the film are just beyond belief. The fantastic music score by that genius, Phillip Glass, compliments and enhances our experience. This film will live forever in spite of some of the comments submitted to this forum, because it deals with universal themes that will stay with us on this planet while human life will exist. This was pioneer movie making that later on became main stream. The originality being in the way the director presents the different sections in the film with some unusual photography that, while imitated, remains the standard for comparison with any new so called latest technique and innovation.

Kudos to Mr. Reggio, Mr. Glass and the people behind this gorgeous film.

"It is up for the viewer to take for herself what Koyanisqaatsi means. For some people it's an environmental film, for some people it's an ode to technology, for some people it's a piece of sh-t, for other people it moves them deeply. It depends on who you ask" - Godfrey Reggio

So, Koyanisqaatsi. Boring junk to some, an involving masterpiece to others, and God knows what other adjective-noun combinations are out there (you can probably guess my opinion from the rating above). Most of these descriptions are fairly subjective, but it would definitely be wrong to regard Koyanisqaatsi as anti-cinema. It is anything but. Cinema, in its purest form, is a marriage of sound and visuals; everything else is just decoration. Dialogue? Storyline? Koyanisqaatsi harks back to an age when cinema was simply a filmed record of a situation. Was it not the Lumiere brothers who are generally regarded as the first pioneers of cinema? And is it not the case that their films comprised of nothing more than situations like a couple feeding their baby, workers leaving a factory, or the (in)famous Train Leaving A Station, which went down in folklore as causing people to flee the auditorium in panic thinking they were about to be hit by a train as it approached them on-screen? Koyanisqaatsi is cinema returning to its roots, to the days when the possibilities for film as an art form were wide open, free of commercial constraints and fickle audiences too narrow in scope to accept anything other than what they view as the given norm.

In a way it's fairly irrelevant what Koyanasqaatsi meant to me on a personal level, though I might get to that later. What's important is what Koyanasqaatsi represents. It's an interesting attempt (and a successful one in my view) to illustrate how a narrative can be created simply by editing together seemingly loosely related scenes and images. It reminds me of another cinematic milestone, the Kuleshov experiment, in which two separate images where edited together to create a third meaning, and which helped establish what is now known as Russian montage (and speaking of the Russian montage tradition, anyone who has seen Vertov's The Man With The Movie Camera will no doubt find traces of it in Koyanisqaatsi and vice versa). Koyanisqaatsi takes it one step further, perhaps even to its logical conclusion, using editing to create a new meaning for the entire narrative as a whole. It works on a gut level and sparks an emotional response, in a way it demands a response, be it boredom, amazement... it really depends on the person (as illustrated by the Reggio quote above). As such it's an example of cinema at its most subjective.

Coming back to the influence Man With A Movie Camera no doubt had on this film, I think what Godfrey Reggio has done here is take this specific style of film-making and turn it into what I, personally, view as a cinematic statement on humanity- and our technology's relationship with the environment around us. It's a pessimistic film, filled with Cold War anxiety (though it hasn't lost any of its relevance) - and in retrospect, I also found it reminiscent of an age when America still had a strong avantgarde movement in the shape of people like Reggio or Laurie Anderson (and in a way it's an interesting coincidence that 1983 also gave birth to another experimental documentary, Chris Marker's Sans Soleil, which is equally rich in scope and tackles the same philosophical issues, albeit from a slightly different angle).

I really wonder if the western world could produce a film like this today, in an age where cinema audiences are more fickle than ever, demanding a cut every three seconds and some sort of "surprise twist" at the end, with hardly a niche left for the Godrey Reggios of this world. But in a way I suppose it doesn't really matter. Koyanisqaatsi, to me at least, is one of the richest cinematic experiences anyone could possibly hope to have, and I doubt I'll see a film which will move me quite like this for a long time to come.

I first went to see this film almost by accident. Some friends were going, & it happened that Philip Glass was due to be in the cinema for an after-screening interview. I wasn't a huge fan of Philip Glass, I'd never heard of Koyaanisqatsi or Godfrey Reggio: but what the hell, I went along, expecting some sort of nicely-filmed but vaguely-boring worthy documentary.

An hour & a half later, I was - and I'm having to try very hard to find adjectives here - in fact I'm failing. It was The-Thing-That-You-Can't-Even-Tell-Someone-What-It-Is. Completely transfixed, transported, for 90 minutes of my life.

This film has no dialogue. It has no actors, apart from everyone & everything that Ron Fricke's camera touches. It has no plot, apart from just the simple, complex, unfolding story of the world.

The truth is, of all the films that people feel have really made an impact on their lives - and you only need to read through this lengthy thread to see how many of those people there are - this is one of the hardest to communicate to someone who hasn't actually seen it. You can compare it, perhaps, to things they might have seen - but there aren't that many to compare to. It has a kind of poetry on a whole different level from, for example, Man with a Movie Camera. The only things that spring to mind for me are Orphee or Last Year at Marienbad, but these are completely different kinds of movie, and even people who don't like them might be totally taken apart by Koyaanisqatsi.

Sure you could - rightly - use phrases like "breathtaking cinematography" or "unforgettable images". You could praise the music (which really opened my ears to Philip Glass). You could point out, as many have done, how the film made you look again at the world, & at your own place in it. Or you could try to relay its "environmental" message - and there are people, especially those who take any implied criticism of our species' waste and cruelty as a kind of personal insult, who will not like that message.

But none of these things would come close to capturing what makes this film so special. Like trying to explain "red" to someone who's never seen colours. You have to experience it. If possible in a cinema, sitting right down at the front, completely immersed in the screen and its images.

I know I'll never forget the first time I saw it. You might not either.

Koyaanisqatsi is a unique and thought-provoking film. It came out at about the same time as "My Dinner With Andre", another unique and thought-provoking film which used conversation as virtually the sole method of communicating. Whereas "My Dinner With Andre" consisted entirely of a conversation between two actors, and resulted in the formation of numerous local discussion groups by devotees, Koyaanisqatsi passed relatively unnoticed, perhaps because it used the opposite technique of relying only on images and music, with no dialogue whatsoever. I found both films fascinating.

The first half of Koyaanisqatsi is of a world full of beauty. The most memorable images for me are time-lapse photography of clouds and their shadows moving across the canyon-country landscapes of the desert southwest. Anyone who has spent hours gazing into a fire or watching waves at the beach will find the photography mesmerizing - one of few film experiences that convey natural beauty almost as well as the reality itself.

The second half of the film is an intentionally jarring contrast, starting with a depiction of mechanized destruction of the same beauty for human purposes, i.e. mining coal to produce electricity. The message soon becomes overwhelmingly plain: We are screwing the place up, and are immensely poorer for it. The sourpuss face of frustration and disgust on a woman vainly trying over and over again to light her cigarette with an empty lighter summed it up for me, although other viewers of any sensibility will find plenty of disturbing images from the second half of the film to identify with.

As my friends and I left the theater (sadly, this is one of those films that loses some of its impact on the small screen) one remarked "It's been done. They've made the movie I wanted to make". Some of the commentators here have basically said that, while Koyaanisqatsi is undoubtedly a very good film, they didn't like the message; one referred to people who would enjoy the movie as misanthropes.

While its opposite film, "My Dinner With Andre" was full of discussions about the unarguably wonderful meta-physical potential of sentient beings such as ourselves, and while I enjoyed it a great deal, the contrast between the two seemed to point out that we as a species really are rather full of ourselves at times. Whether one is inclined to agree, or just wishes to see a glimpse of another point of view, one cannot go wrong seeing Koyaanisqatsi. Like the Angel of Death silently pointing out to Ebaneezer Scrooge the error of his ways, this film's message IS unmistakable, and needs no words.

This is a stunningly beautiful movie. The music by Phillip Glass is just a work of pure genius. I can watch this movie again and again. The final sequence of the Hobi legend's judgment where the container falls from the sky is just unbelievable. How was it filmed? It's so amazing. If you have not seen this film watch it - again and again! This must be the only movie which in a powerful way, far better than, say, "Apocalypse Now", sums up why our current "civilization" might be heading for destruction. Moreover, "Koyaanisquatsi" "defamiliarizes" the world and humanity allowing the viewer to benefit from a "verfremdung" viewpoint. In other words, we learn so much about our own life and life in general by watching it from this entirely new viewpoint of "Koyannisqautsi", where fast motion is used extensively. What is mankind about? Why are we moving so fast? Towards what goal? What is nature? What is the driving force of nature? What is the pulse of the earth? What is our relation with ourselves, nature and other people and animals? Moreover, I think this movie is better than the sequel "Powaquatsi". Anyway, I cannot emphasize enough how brilliant "Koyaanisqatsi" is. Watch it! Watch it! Watch it!

KOYAANISQATSI remains a profound statement over twenty years after its original release. the point then is the point now.

one of the great things about this film is that while the intrusion of man is initially presented as profane and abhorrent, ultimately there is found a symmetry to the human experience that is as organic as anything found in the `natural' world. i used to be tempted to perceive humans as the only species on the plant that didn't fit, that threw everything out of balance, as it were. but over time it has become apparent that even the blight of man on earth is a naturally occurring phenomenon. the evolution of life is the destruction of life. the circle is unbroken.

Well, few months ago I watched Baraka and i was in awe how good it was. Ron Fricke did amazing job with that movie (even better than the next one he made). I am a hobby photographer, but i spent most of the time with my mouth wide open in surprised delight. 10/10 because i can't give more than that.

Anyway, after that movie i browsed what else would be like it and I found this one. And well... it's so much worse. Ok, let me reprhase - Baraka set such a high bar, that I doubt anyone will be jumping over it, or even touch it... Saying this, this movie here is NOT bad ,it still has the same vibe, it still has good shots , interesting slow motions, panings, long exposures and so on, and it may even have more "meaning" in the shots. But my rating 5/10 is only because Baraka set my bar too high. But after that, this movie couldn't keep me glued to the screen. It lacked something of these wow-shots to keep your eyes on the screen the whole time.

So if you are into such kind of movies, my advise is to watch this before Baraka, that way you will still be very pleased with this one, and then you'd get a climax from Baraka.

Koyaanisqatis is an extremely unusual film, and by far one of the most unusual I have ever seen. It takes on the daunting task of portraying the history of the world until modern times (or the early 80s, at least) entirely without dialogue. It is a documentary of sorts, in that it is amazingly informative, but it is filmed like a Hollywood film. Expertly framed shots and flawlessly smooth camera movement and shot composition. There is an unbelievable amount of talent behind this film, both in the fascinating images that are presented and the mesmerizing score by Philip Glass.

It is a very slow moving film, but it manages to keep your attention because, in many cases, it is just so interesting to see the things that are portrayed and the way that they are shown. This is the only film, for example, where you can see a shot of a 737 approaches directly toward the camera over a hot runway in a shot that is possibly over a minute long with no movement other than the sluggish lumbering of the massive plain.

Godfrey Reggio takes Glass's score and places images over it that add to the sound and create an experience that is far greater than, as they say, the sum of its parts. The shots contain camera movement or lack movement, are sped up or slowed down, and have live sound or no live sound depending on the desired effect, and the end result is absolutely hypnotic.

This is a wonderful cinematic experience for people of all ages, and possibly my favorite thing about this film and it's successors is that, because they have no dialogue, they can be shown in any country in the world and not have to worry about subtitles or even altered meanings. This is a film for humanity.

In the early 1980s, experimental documentary filmmaker Godfrey Reggio released his first full length feature, Koyaanisqatsi (deriving from a Hopi language word which means "unbalanced life"). Upon its release, it did gain a decent amount of traction, although it gained more notion through cult status. In addition, it happens to be the first in the Qatsi film trilogy; the next two being Powaqqatsi and Naqoyqatsi. As for the film in general, it depicts different aspects of the relationship between humans, nature and technology. Reggio himself stated that the film is left to interpretation, and in my personal opinion, let's just say that I respect it more than I actually like it.

One gorgeous aspect of the feature is the cinematography, particularly during the first 20 minutes which showcases forests, mountains and canyons as far as the eye can see. However, right when nature has pulled us in, the film smoothly transitions into explosions, consumerism and all sorts of chaos to create a gripping juxtaposition containing a grim view of mankind. The choice to convey the message through visuals rather than dialogue is what makes this film such a thought provoking experience. No matter how one examines the feature, there is no right or wrong answer; it's all up to the individual viewer to decide for themselves.

What makes the film really gut wrenching for me is how it tackles the horror of technology. Technology is shown to be quite a threat when it comes to how people use it. Whether it be using scientific experiments, working in factories or even getting caught up in city life, there's always a feeling of unsettling desolation throughout the film. Mankind has utilized what they've created up to the point of no return, which is still relevant to this day. In addition, the score by Philip Glass is brilliantly composed, as it manages to balance a sense of harmony with haunting melodies depending on the moment. Had it not been for this score, the film would not have had as strong of an emotional gut punch in getting its point across.

Now with all that said, as much as I admire the film for its intentions, I must admit that it is kind of a chore to sit through. Several scenes do drag on for my tastes, and I felt the feature would've worked better at a 30 to 40 minute length. By going on for 85 minutes, it ends up taking away a lot of intrigue from its purpose. Also, while I get that the film is supposed to show the unbalanced state of life, it doesn't really offer an alternative way of living. If you want to get across that there needs to be a new way of living, maybe have a scene at the end that shows a national park or someone plating a tree. By doing that, it shows that there is hope for a better tomorrow, rather than just focusing on mankind's wrong doings.

All in all, despite my mixed feelings towards the film itself, I still have nothing but the upmost respect for Koyaanisqatsi. It's just as relevant now as it was back in the day, and no matter who you are, it can speak to everyone through its poetic non linear narrative alone. If you're into arthouse films, pro-environmental documentaries or you just want to be reminded as to why we need to preserve our planet, definitely give this film a watch. Even if it ends up boring you, its orchestral visuals and biting social commentary will make it stand out one way or another.

This is a critics' favorite which usually means it's vastly overrated. That's the case here, too. That doesn't mean it's not worth seeing - it is worth a look - but it's probably not worth owning.

The film is a non-narrative piece showing the comparison of peaceful, tranquil scenes from mountains and other earthly sites and then comparing them to the huge concrete buildings man has built in cities along with the busy lifestyle of modern-day human beings.

Scenes of mass transportation and crowded streets are shown in fast-forward time, audible sounds done the same. It emphasizes the rush-rush- rush of everything in modern-day life.

That "out of balance" message was interesting to watch but grows tiresome quickly. The filmmakers point could have been made in half the time, not an hour-and-a-half of the same message with many scenes drawn out way too long.

I was in the military, when i woke early one sunday morning. No one else was awake, and I found myself in the TV lounge where I turned on the TV. In Norway in those days (1987) there was only one channel, and I saw the opening images of Koyaanisqatsi.

I had no idea what this was! And was on the verge of turning it off, but somehow I just had to see a little bit more of these strange images and haunting music. After ten minutes I was entranced! It was mesmerizing and I sat alone for the duration of the film, and had my first trancendental experience! I was moved to tears by the ending. I always cry after this movie, even now.

A very beautiful flow of clips, even though some of them should frighten more than intrigue.The tempo is also part of what makes is so captivating. The clips slowly builds up and creates an alarming story. At the same time every sequence stands on its own. The lack of words gives it an almost alien view of earth and man's relationship to the planet. Together with the score by Philip Glass it sucked me in and I have rarely been so focused on every frame throughout an entire movie. It must have been quite amazing to see this in a movie theater back in the 80's with the big screen, speakers and also i guess in a time when similar creations were more scarce than now. It's by far the most visual movie I have seen and the fact that it only relies on images and music to tell a story made it bypass my rational filters and made me fully present in the moment for 86 minutes straight.

... doing what they do best, scarring the planet with concrete, raping its natural resources, pollution, destruction and chaos. The saddest part of this fascinating and visually stimulating documentary is that we continue, exponentially, doing what we're good at. Which is fine if you're alive today (not really) but future generations may have to rediscover some ancient hunting and gathering techniques to survive - most probably hunting themselves as there'll be nothing else worth gathering - assuming we are.

This movie has no script, just visions and music. It is very nice to watch. The photography is amazing. This, along with the music, make it a very surreal experience to watch. I bought the DVD and just love it. The music is terrific and the commentary in the special features section is just out of this world.

Koyaanisqatsi is a product of years of hard work on part of filmmakers and hundreds of years old Hopi prophecies. Watching Koyaanisqatsi with some knowledge of Hopi culture goes a long way towards truly enjoying this film.

I have seen Koyaanisqatsi numerous times, every time on the big screen and I believe that seeing it in cropped 16:9 aspect ratio can't do it justice. Having said that, it is still better to see it even in 16:9 then not to see it at all. (although I would advise against watching it in 16:9 on a small screen TV).

Koyaanisqatsi is a film with no dialog, actors or even a "story". However, to those familiar with concepts which are in the film, this work of art has a lot to offer.

Hopi Indians believe that God (or "Massaw" as they call the creator) created four distinct races to develop four essential elements: earth, wind, water and fire. The first part of the film illustrates that, although beautiful imagery can easily distract us, in a good way, from noticing that pattern is followed.

It is the white man that developed and is still developing what can be done with fire element: mining and excavation, arms, nuclear weapons, engines and power plants. In the process, all kinds of fuels are needed and consequences were foretold by Hopi prophecies - "If we dig precious things from the land, we will invite disaster".

Without narration, dialog or acting, Koyaanisqatsi communicates very well dangers and pitfalls of careless modern development which is quickly surpassing our abilities to control it. In this respect the film could be seen as pessimistic, but I look at it more as an observation. Koyaanisqatsi is not a criticism of all modern technology, rather a look at, from a fresh perspective, of what we are doing to the world we inherited and seem to take for granted. It doesn't let us turn a blind eye to our race with ourselves in which essential earthly and human values are left behind. Even with the film being 25 yrs old, the freshness is preserved and is it's key element.

Koyaanisqatsi is probably the most enjoyable and moving portrait of our planet and humankind and should definitely be a centerpiece of some time-and-space-floating time-capsule.

For me, Koyaanisqatsi is one of only a few films which I consider works of art in the deepest sense.

Unless you are into plots and action, you will not be disappointed by this film; in fact, this will be the fastest 100 minutes of your life and it could be the most enjoyable film you ever saw.

I cannot claim to fully understand, or attempt to explain, all of the underlying "messages" this film might have about our world, but I was nonetheless moved and enraptured with having seen KOYAANISQATSI. From a purely visceral, aural, emotional, and possibly even physical standpoint this film creates a full plethora of sensations that affected me to the very core of my being. The cinematography and editing are absolutely superb, and the driving soundtrack by minimalist composer Philip Glass is unquestionable brilliance. Despite the thousands of images, movements and sequences the viewer is taken through during the film's 87 minute duration, so many will remain locked in your mind's eye when the credits have long faded away. It does take an incredibly open mind (in other words, it's "artsy-fartsy"), but it truly is a great cinematic accomplishment and a wonderfully moving experience. You don't have to "get it", just WATCH it! 9/10. Utterly MESMERIZING!

My favourite documentary, just amazing. The connnection between the music and camera is simply mesmerising, I watched it numerous times in last 15 years since I discovered this gem.

If anything it gets better with time, since the footage becomes even more "retro", while the theme is more and more current.

In spite of the many favorable reviews, the is not a film for everyone. I challenge any watcher not under the influence of alcohol or drugs to get through this visual montage without hitting the fast-forward button a number of times. In fact, director Reggio does a lot of the fast-forwarding for you. This film is Reggio at his most self-indulgent. There are some beautiful images, mind you, especially in the beginning (Monument Valley and other gorgeous areas in Utah), but the 82-minute film is best watched in under 20 minutes. Even the explanatory extra feature, though certainly revealing, is way too long.

The creative marriage between Godfrey Reggio and Philip Glass gave birth to the most unique visual and acoustic experience of the 20th century. Without one another, this film does not function. Together they illuminate the dehumanizing brutality of everyday modern life.

For critics and viewers alike, Koyaanisqatsi appears to be an apocalyptic vision of a coming new new world. If this is the case, then the apocalypse has arrived and it is here to stay. In under 90 minutes, the film tears apart wishful thinking about reversing the point of no return, only to show in brutally graphic details just how far in we are.

This is not a visionary film. This is not prophecy. This film serves one purpose and one purpose only: utilize the two universal languages - sound and vision- to highlight just how screwed we are.

It is therefore fitting and ironic that the prophecy is revealed at the very end.

Magnificently photographed, the gliding and swooping shots really draw one into the picture, and the in and out of focus playing is fascinating at times. The music fits the images very well, and theme song is quite interesting. Because of these little virtues, the film possesses power both on a visual and audio scope, however it is hard to really get into the film, due to the absence of dialogue and characters. For this reason, the images and overlaying score contain little meaning, and since there is no linear plot to follow, there is nothing to grasp the viewer in the slower sequences with less powerful music. At the end, the film quotes a few phrases in the hope of justifying what it has shown. The quotes are thought provoking, but they fail to provide justifications for more than half the images in the film. So it is not quite a masterpiece, but as a unique experimental film it is interesting, and the cinematography tricks, using time lapse and other techniques, are impressive.

I seem to be somewhat out of the norm here, but gotta say this was long, boring, and a little pretentious. A few nice images, not nearly enough intelligent stuff to fill the time. What can one say? Humans affect the environment. Choose some nice images of unspoiled environment. Intersperse some ugly images of human wastelands. Cut with some scenes of interesting people and urban scenes that provoke mixed responses. Color and composition competent but not special. Mix with droning Philip Glass music for Native American voice. That's all it is: no plot, no commentary, just images and chant.

Not so bad that I did not watch it to the end. But at the end, not particularily memorable or influential. Few persistent images. Nothing that could not be done in half the time. Maybe I made the mistake of not chilling out and just drifting with it, or something. 4/10.