Dog Star Man's Film Reviews

I'm in limbo right now, I had to get some issues to take care of, but I'm hoping to either get into UCLA or UCSB.

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Imagine an eye unruled by man-made laws of perspective, an eye unprejudiced by compositional logic, an eye which does not respond to the name of everything but which must know each object encountered in life through an adventure of perception. How many colors are there in a field of grass to the crawling baby unaware of 'Green'?

-Stan Brakhage

Interesting. We may be rivals then...

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Rivals? How do you figure?

She's a USC Trojan. UCLA would be a rival.

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It's what you learn after you know it all that counts. - John Wooden
My IMDb page

I'm not into "school rivalries". As far as I'm concerned I'm just there to learn what I can, get my degree, and get the hell out to do what I want. She's not a rival to me, she's a fellow film maker learning the craft along with me. We shouldn't be rivals, but companions. By the way, I salute the fact she's going into the craft. We need more women and minorities in American film.

A Z-movie picture with a pulse, Glen or Glenda is a hysterically bad movie by infamous director Edward D. Wood Jr. Like many Wood films to come, Glen or Glenda tries to send a message out to 1950's society, but the attempts ultimately backlash due to the directors complete ineptitude. That backlash, however, is the film's charm. Outside of Plan 9 from Outer Space, (which I personally regard as a cinematic masterpiece and it will always hold a secure spot in my top 100 films list), Glen or Glenda is perhaps my second favorite in Ed Wood's schlock fair. From beginning to end it provides bust-your-gut-laughing entertainment.

Tim Burton once said something along the lines that, "What took one person a sentence to illustrate, it took Ed Wood at least five." In a way you could sort of feel bad for the man behind the camera, I imagine Ed Wood wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but that to me is really part of the films draw. He's the cinematic spokes person for the lower common denominator, and I think movies need more of that actually. Sure we can laugh at the results when humor comes unexpectedly. But I recall a certain Hollywood producer who would, regardless of how terrible the film may be, always give a standing ovation to movies because he understood quite well the efforts that went into making them. Granted there are films people aren't going to like, (and I have plenty that I don't enjoy), but I will still have a underlying respect for the project no matter how flawed.

Glen or Glenda is extremely repetitious. In all honestly, a more capable director could have cut this 70 minute film down to about 5 minutes; but then again we wouldn't get the charms of memorable quotes like, "The roads carrying cars, carrying people, carrying out their daily lives," it is easy to figure that if Wood is this repetitious in his very own dialogue the essential screenplay itself would illustrate the same. Wood's point in the film is to make a statement in 50's society that his lifestyle of transvestism should be accepted. So for a good hour he reiterates this point, over and over again. You may say this might get dull after awhile, and for all purposes it really should; but the thing that keeps this film afloat is all its non-sequiturs. Stock footage, Bela Lugosi as "Puppet Master", surrealist dreamscapes, bizarre sexual acts, and staged/filmed footage by Wood himself. This movie is almost a Citizen Kane of terrible results, not ideas.

As with my review of Tetsuo: The Iron Man, I will say Glen or Glenda is not for everyone. The reason I mention this is that some may have a bias that films should act and behave certain ways. I, however, don't share this viewpoint and when it comes to the issue, you could say I am very liberal-minded. Maybe its a fault of mine, but I don't treat it as such. Surprisingly I do have films I really don't like, an example would be The Great Outdoors which to me follows such a "scriptwriting 101" format of comedy that its not funny but dreadfully fomulaic. When I feel something is made for corporatism, (which may be the reason I don't particularly care for contemporary cinema so much), I tune out. That's where I can respect something like Glen or Glenda, its a personal film, no matter how laughably-flawed.

So here it is, a long awaited review of my namesake, Dog Star Man. This is the film, more than any other film, which liberated my existence as film maker and film artist. The man behind this masterpiece of composition, Stan Brakhage. Oddly enough, this isn't my favorite work of his. I suppose my favorite work would have to be his latter, Black Ice, but something about Dog Star Man has jarred me from all my preconceptions of what "film" is. Its a film for film makers, and looking at it through any other lens would be rather preposterous.

Stan Brakhage had his roots in Maya Deren in the beginning of his cinematic career. Brakhage and many avant-garde artists of the time copied Deren and her poetic dreamlike productions, but come 1962 when Dog Star Man is created, something happens, something even as I write this I cannot explain. Dog Star Man takes the cinematic medium and propels it into a realm that has nothing to do with cinema at all. I don't consider Dog Star Man a film, frankly, I am at a loss of words to illustrate exactly with it truly is. It is art; its medium is celluloid; but somehow it transcends the very medium which it is printed on. Dog Star Man doesn't exist in the known dimensions of cinema, therefore, it is something almost completely incapable of being fully understood. Anyone can view the "film", but it exists in the realms of the mystics, transcending all logical practice in favor of something intangible.

This is a personal review for me, so instead of utilizing the "you" I will substitute with the "I".

As I watched Dog Star Man I not only saw the beginnings of the universe, but its inevitable death as well. The exploration of the concepts that were so important to Stan Brakhage, "Birth, sex, death, and the search for God," come forth not in single file, but rather all at once. It was difficult for me to grasp this concept at first, the very notion that the artist could beat out infinite concepts at once seemed impossible, but I stood boldly corrected. I soon felt I was in the presence of a divine magician, neither white nor dark, but someone who's very nature was neutral; both achromatic and shadeless. I was witnessing the beauty of birth, and the horror of death. I was witnessing something that had no definition except that of "God". It was a spiritual experience for me. Something unlike I have ever encountered before or since. It was visual Zen:


It is said that once you experience a "Zen" moment, things become clearer, and that certainly became the case after I viewed all of Dog Star Man in its five parts; from Prelude to Part IV. Soon, I became liberated from the tangible world of cinema. I soon realized that there was a God, that the heavens existed, and one didn't have to experience death to find it. I realized that kind celestial beauty was all around me, and at any moment I could meditate and find it. Dog Star Man, therefore, became the film that pushed me ever closer into Eastern concepts of religion and spirituality, a belief that I could truly find and be with that kind of omnipotant beauty and place of powerful calm anytime I wished to be. The fear of death has left me.

The films impact on me wasn't just in its spirituality, but it was also in its aesthetics and practice. Everything about that film that was so mystical and foreign became a fascination to me. I loved the techniques utilized within the film of intercutting, superimpostions, zooms, hand painted celluloid strips, time exposures, etc. Everything I witnessed seemed limitless in creation. However, the thing that has influenced me the most within the film itself, as a film maker, is the very fact that Stan Brakhage had virtually nothing to create this film. He created a masterpiece, and I say that without any restraint, of extremely powerful spiritual, personal, and visually radiant work all by himself. This was one man's vision. In Dog Star Man, Stan Brakhage didn't have lighting equipment, (he used all natural lighting); a crew, (he was alone in the mountains with only his family); a high-end camera, (shooting on 16mm); or sound equipment, (he felt it would subtract the viewer away from its visual magnificence). Stan Brakhage illustrated to me, more than any other film maker, that you don't need these things to make your work, all it takes is the individual, the vision, with the determination to do it. Since my initial viewing of Dog Star Man, in this regard, I have tried to emulate him as much as possible. I've gone out many days and nights filming and experimenting with my own camera. I am therefore free from the confines of narrative structure. The need for crew, equipment outside of camera, high-end cameras, sound, etc. I don't give it the time of day anymore. I just do.

This is why Dog Star Man has become the most important film to me in my individual experience. I don't expect anyone to share this experience, but this is the experience that I have that must be told. If you read this review and become interested, all the better, by all means, view the film for yourself and come to your own conclusions. Its a film which expands my vision and propels me to create and live.

I think I'm going to keep my reviews simply to films 4 Stars +. I don't really want to review bad films, I don't think they would deserve my time and effort. All other "reviews" would go in the Movie Tab thread.

Ed Wood has become a personal comedy to me. There are probably other comedies I find more enjoyable, but this is the one that really sticks with me.

I have been a fan of 1950's and 1960's B and Z movies since I was a kid. The whole retro space-age stuff really clicks with me; down to diners made in the shape of foods, "atomic cars", and bowling shirts. It was a time of camp, and the B and Z movies of the era reflected this better than any other films I thought. Sure, Alfred Hitchcock was in his "Golden Age" in the 1950's, and I watched his films with much admiration, but they were timeless classics. His films, and many of the great films existing within that epoch, transcended the times all together and left them behind. This isn't a bad thing, in fact its a very good thing, but to truly capture the times of that era, I felt I had to go deeper into the recessions of B and Z cinema. As a kid, I had seen movies like Plan 9 From Outer Space, knowing it was considered one of the worst films ever made by the world's worst director. But I was so enamored with its humor and camp value that I didn't consider it a movie as terrible as people made it out to be. I hadn't seen any other Ed Wood picture until years later when they finally released a DVD box set, (which I own), that included a majority of his films and the VHS format, along with Blockbuster Video, became a thing of the past. By that time I had seen Tim Burton's Ed Wood and had grown an even further appreciation for the man who created films which I adored as a kid. The film soon shared a view which I shared as a kid, there needed to be a righteous ode to these classics that were severely overlooked as celluloid trash. Even though these films didn't share the polish of a Hitchcock or Kazan picture, they were still just as important as the major productions.

Ed Wood is also about one man's "Persistence of Vision" in quite literal terms. His films are terrible, but he has a vision he is unwilling to compromise. Ed Wood desires nothing more than to make a picture, and he will go to any length to get his movies made. He doesn't exploit others to get the picture made, (though Bela Lugosi's own son thinks differently), rather he just doesn't give up, he sees things though to the very end even in the roughest times. When financing is all washed up, he tries finding another backer, again and again. I honestly think that story should be told to any film maker trying to produce a movie. Ed Wood is perhaps the most honest about producing and its troubles in all its regards.

The movie is also a portrait of two artists; Ed Wood, and just as important, Bela Lugosi. The two become inseparable in this film. They are tied together as one. The film could have taken the route of painter, (Wood), and painter alone, by going into the director's other films like Jail Bait and Night of the Ghouls; but for this movie, the painter (Wood), is nothing without his paints (Lugosi), and vise versa. The two soon become a director/actor duo that is seen time and time again throughout cinema history. The films may not be as applauded as say Kurosawa/Mifune, Hitchcock/Stewart, or Scorsese/De Niro, and in this case, Burton/Depp; but something should be said about relationships like these, a there is a true friendship, a bond, which the film poignantly illustrates. Though Lugosi's son thinks Wood exploited his father, he never once asked Lugosi, (going through financial trouble himself), to sport the money for his films. Ed Wood was rather an admirer of the man and his work, and Lugosi could have died without making Ed Wood's films, but then he would have died without doing what he loved to do. An actor needs to act; just as much as a bird needs to fly. Its not the sky in which the bird flies, or the stage in which the actor acts, it is the very nature of doing what you were put on Earth to do which is important. That's all that truly matters, and that to me is what this film illustrates. It is not the ends, rather the means of artistic vision.

Good review to a fantastic film.

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Thank you sir! I appreciate your feedback!

Maya Deren was unquestionably the mother of avant garde cinema in America, and though she created few films, the works she created have an everlasting quality to them. Though I do not consider Meshes of the Afternoon to be her finest work, (that would have to go to A Study in Choreography for the Camera due to its extremely personal nature), it still is considered by many, including myself, to be a masterpiece. In my opinion, it trumps Luis Bunuel's and Salvador Dali's Un Chein Andalou. While I enjoy Un Chien Andalou, it never truly gave me the sensation that I was in a dream. It always felt as surrealist fabrication, a work under construction, rather than a surrealist reality.

Though some credit Meshes of the Afternoon to be a creation of its co-director, Alexander Hammid, but I will always bitterly argue this point because the aesthetics that one sees in all Deren's work remains consistent within the film. There is a keen sense on poetics and choreography which creates a certain rhythm and flow predominant in all of her films. That rhythm is something that I do not find in other artists, and it is the main draw when I approach her. Her work is like water, it is completely fluid; rushing down a sequence of surrealist events which may or may not be real. The thing about Deren's surrealist dreamscapes is that all "realities" come unexpectedly, but when they do eventually occur, they seem completely natural. This naturality of images and sequences gives the viewer a sense of visual transparency not found in other films. That's not to say her work is predictable, on the contrary, what that "transparency" does is give the viewer a greater sense of dreamlike authenticity.

Meshes of the Afternoon has been described as a woman's reality and a woman's nightmare. Being confined into walls which most likely cannot contain her. She is a victim to the time itself. Within the movie she cannot escape her own front porch without ending up back where she started. The keys to her very freedom exist within the tongue, (words), of her mouth. The men of her life confine her. And through all this a woman is left to reflect on her own self image for she has damned herself to this nightmare most of all. There is hope however, and that is by breaking the images which she and society have created upon her. But this independence may spell her inevitable destruction, it is up to her to decide.

I thoroughly enjoy Deren's works; she has become, to me, cinema's one and only poet. In film, we have plenty of "novelist" directors making headway in the three realms of cinema; (first, second, and third). But so few directors have captured the beauty of what is "cinematic rhythm" or "cinematic poetry" the way Maya Deren has. She truely is a master existing in her own realm.

I love your reviews, DSM, and look forward to reading more of them. Although I'm not a huge fan of avant garde films, I do like movies that challenge me and make me think (I loved Tetsuo: The Iron Man).

Keep 'em coming.

Scorpio Rising is perhaps my favorite Kenneth Anger film. In it, Anger focuses on the ritual of a culture that helped define a bye-gone era. Every act within the film becomes almost like a religion; from the 1950's "biker" music, to adolescent dreams of grease and leather, and the inevitable collapse of its counterculture lifestyle.

Many of Anger's films are intellectual avant-garde "music videos", many of them focusing on ritual, which I can't stress enough. Anger himself being fascinated with the occult and the ritualistic magic "practices" of Crowley, Anger's films therefore focus heavily on what drives us as individuals. From the ritualistic practices of a woman dressing in Puce Moment to Rabbit's Moon where the ritual process became the clown ever glancing at a moon too high for his reach. Anger's films become the analysis of the idiosyncracies of human obession. No one should expect anything less then out of Scorpio Rising where the films primary focus is on the rituals of biker culture which, through the films eyes, becomes a religion of grease, leather, homosexuality, anti-politics, and death.

Beginning the film with Ricky Nelson's song "The Fool's Rush In (Where Angel's Fear to Tread)", as the title suggests, those who wish to tango with the biker counter culture are the fools playing with too much heat. Young children who play with wind-up toy motorbikes dream of the days when they can work on the bigger toys, the actual bikes themselves. The film digresses into routine of bike repair; the garage and everything in it becomes the bikers natural habitat. Then we focus on fashion, the ceremonial dress of the individual; leather, tight pants, skull rings, nazi caps, and studs. We also focus on their lives when they aren't in the garage or in the streets; watching Brando's The Wild One, idolizing the late James Dean, and reading comics like Charlie Brown. From there we observe the almost homosexual nature of men engaging in the culture which is entirely testosterone driven; the violence and the immaturity that comes from teenage males pours through like an unstoppable current. What we witness next is the counter-politics of nazi fascism inherent in the men; the politics of hatred, fear, and death. Soon those men who engaged in the madness, the "Fool's Who Rushed In (Where Angel's Fear to Tread)", will soon "Wipe Out" as the final Surfaris song indicates. They will die with the era, or die in the fast lane.

Again, what is so appealing about Anger's films is his focus on defining man through their daily nature. I wouldn't say his films are for everybody, but if you can get on his wavelength I think anyone would be pleasantly surprised by his works.

Another avant-garde "music video" by Kenneth Anger. Kustom Kar Kommandos is a short film, (running 3 minutes), about the sexual obsessions between man and machine. As I mentioned in my review of Scorpio Rising, Anger focuses primarily on man and their ritualistic practices, whatever they may be. In Scorpio Rising it was the ceremonial acts of biker culture, in Kustom Kar Kommandos it is less about the rite of passages into a culture and more about copulation between men and their toys. From beginning to end, a hypnotic cover of "Dream Lover" by The Paris Sisters plays in the background while a man caresses the car with a pink feather cloth. The engine, resembling a womans breasts, are fondled by the stroke of his hands. His male friends come to admire his pride and joy, much like they would admire a beautiful girl. Finally he puts himself into the car, a metaphorical insertion, and drives off with his dream lover. The concept of lust coming before love is interesting and should require some introspection on the part of the viewer.

Again, like many avant-garde films I have reviewed here, it isn't for everybody. However, the aesthetics and ideas behind many of these films are challenging; they require an active audience, which is why I enjoy them so much. I have seen many avant-garde films which I don't like, Anger's Inauguration of the Pleasure Dome completely escapes me and rather bored me more than anything else. But for the movies that have engaged me on a challenging level, they get my complete adoration. Kustom Kar Kommandos is extremely interesting to watch because it blends ideas so seemlessly and becomes in the process as hypnotic as its "Dream Lover" soundtrack. I give this a high recommendation for all those interested in abstract cinema.

I jut watched this one on youtube and loved it. I'm not sure love really comes into play in this movie, but rather foreplay and consummation/copulation. Otherwise I agree with your interpretation. I watched this and the beginning of Scorpio Rising(up to The Devil in Disguise), and Anger clearly has a fascination with fetishism; a fascination which I share, which is probably why I like these two films so much (I really want to see the rest of Scorpio Rising).

Anyway, great reviews, and thank you for bringing these films to my attention.

I have another great Anger film which I'm going to review soon which is the 1950 version of Rabbit's Moon, (there are two versions and I think the 1950 version is the best). I absolutely adore that film. If you get a chance, try to look up that film as well. It mixes mime with kabuki acting, as well as servicing the commedia dell'arte. It's a bizarre mixture, I know, but somehow Anger manages to make it work. Also, the music is fantastic.

Akira in my opinion is one of the greatest animes ever conceived. While most animes, (and animation worldwide), were cutting corners in production to create cost-effective films; Akira stood firm with hand painted animation, lip-synced dialogue, and a no holds barred action-drama that gripped audiences around the world. Akira was of a dying breed, but it soon single-handedly rejuvenated the anime industry, and its influence in its own realm cannot be understated. To this day, Akira is cited to be one of, if not the most, influential contemporary animes of our generation.

Akira is loosely based on Katsuhiro Otomo's 2,200 page manga of the same name. While the film doesn't have the time span to expand upon the manga's themes and overall plot elements, (in fact the manga wasn't even completed when the film finished production), the film Akira still manages to impress any audience member who wishes to view it with its incredibly complex narrative ambiguities. Though the film itself has been criticized for cutting down the elements which composed the manga. It is my opinion that the manga and film aid each other quite well and should both be looked at from different perspectives.

What makes Akira so lasting is the universal theme of man's obsessions with power and how again and again throughout history it has brought us our own demise. For Tetsuo in the film, it is the power not to be controlled by others. For the scientist, it is the power of knowledge. For the politicians, it is the power that comes from government authority and its inevitable corruption with greed and corporatism. For the military men, it is the power to control the citizens through acts of violence. Tokyo, (according to the film), had been destroyed once before by meddling in powers outside of their control. But as a common theme throughout the film, man is doomed to repeat history over and over again. It is the universal tragedy we must face. This, to me, is what also makes the film so appealing.

On a final note, I will say however, that Akira is a rather violent film and shouldn't be viewed by the squeamish; but for anyone who can handle the violence contained, it is a marvelous film. It is full of great ambiguities which appeal to the cinematic thinking man.

It's usually a great pleasure of mine to watch any of Craig Baldwin's works, (thankfully, no relation to the untalented hacks, the Baldwin brothers). Craig Baldwin's works are, as he likes to put it, "underground". Many of his works are pseudo-documentaries illustrating points that are either intangible or not there at all. An example of this, (which I may review later), is Tribulation 99: Alien Anomalies Under America - The Shocking Truth About the Coming Apocalypse in which Baldwin takes conspiracy theories that have arisen over the century and molds them, connects them, into one massive conspiracy "documentary". The result is a rather entertaining "mockumentary" of irrational thought that has existed over the ages. However, I digress, onto the Wild Gunman review.

Wild Gunman is an example of an intangible documentary by Baldwin. The points illustrated aren't out in the open like a normal documentary would thrust you. Rather, the film makes it's points ambiguously; showing you clips of American culture and lifestyle to which one, at the end, must draw their conclusions. However most people come to the same conclusion that American culture has a certain insanity to it. I would be hesitant to say Baldwin is limitating this "insanity" to just American culture. If anything what Baldwin is illustrating, (as he did so in RocketKitKongoKit to some extent), is that each culture has its own flavors of insanity, just pick which one suits your fancy. In Wild Gunman Baldwin shows images of a child's game in which the child has to shoot the outlaw first before the outlaw shoots him. When the outlaw shoots the kid, he dies, when the kid fights back, there is constant reiteration of violence; slow motion or constant visual recaps. With this he interjects cigarette commercials, such as the Marlboro man and his slogans. Corporate needs to capitalize on violence as a selling point, then back to children playing outlaw vs. child. The end result is a bizarre understanding of ones own culture, (as I'm writing this from an American's standpoint). It's almost as if all preconceived notions you received growing up were a blindfold on your personal development and Baldwin has taken the liberty of taking the mask off.

As I will say, as I have with several of my reviews now. The film isn't for everyone, as most people do not share my taste in films. However, I do like talking about what I like, and I always love to expose people to new things if they are so inclined to take a chance with me. So if what I've reviewed intrigues you, please feel free to give it a shot, and by all means, enjoy.

Thanks for the review, DSM and, also, for mentioning Tribulation 99: Alien Anomalies Under America - The Shocking Truth About the Coming Apocalypse. It sounds like something that I'd certainly find of interest as, although I'm not really one for conspiracies (apart from Kennedy, which I think has more than a whiff of truth) I do find them interesting. Especially the way that, once you start listening to them, they do actually start to become more seductive without ever gaining any more credibility. The thought of them all being woven into one great MegaTheory, is very enticing.