Film Roar

Baraka (1992)

Magical and enchanting, Baraka is unique in being the only movie I can think of that consistently brings me a smile and a tear. The cinematography in Baraka is so exquisite that I make it a point to attend a screening whenever it is shown on the big screen.

I remember seeing Baraka for the first time at the Seattle International Film Festival a decade ago. I was a bit miffed at the film for the way it sought to manipulate my emotions by showing me a montage of burning oil fields, devastated rain forests and concentration camps. Any resentment was quickly forgotten, though, as I realized how masterfully selected and compiled the film was. Baraka impacted me so deeply that for days afterwards I found parts of the movie playing through in my mind.

Five years later, as a film school student in college, I saw and learned about the City Symphonies of the 1920s such as Berlin: Die Sinfonie der Großstadt (1927). I recognized the origin of the Godfrey Reggio wordless trilogy: Koyaanisqatsi (1983) (which Ron Fricke, the director and editor of Baraka wrote, filmed and helped edit), Powaqqatsi (1988) and Naqoyqatsi (2002) as well as Baraka. The concept is fascinating; to use moving cameras to capture modern life in a region or around the world and set it to music as a two hour contemplation on humanity. The quality with which Baraka accomplishes this is so impressive as to make it one of the jewels on my list of the best movies you've never seen.