It is natural to compare Baraka with Koyaanisqatsi. The two films are similarly structured, both sans dialog, both a collage of video images set to nontraditional music.
Baraka is without a doubt the more visually beautiful of the two. Many of the images here are, almost literally, poetry in motion; others are among the most awe-inspiring I've seen anywhere.
On the other hand, the complaints of some of the other reviewers about the editing are not without foundation. Whereas initially the central themes seem to be the wonders of the natural world and the various manners of worship of societies around the world, we are somewhat surprised to find segments showing an egg production facility, Taiwanese prostitutes, and scavengers at a Calcutta landfill. We are left wondering about relevance, and suspect that the editor unwisely indulged an urge to make a quick and none-too-subtle political point.
Equally importantly, the images in Baraka often depict quite exceptional scenes or places--the gas chambers at Auschwitz, say, or the pilgrims at Mecca, or various other religious monuments. Thus Baraka more or less forfeits any claim to be about "ordinary life" or somesuch.
Koyaanisqatsi, on the other hand, hewed to ordinary images from more-or-less ordinary life pretty much from beginning to end; one exception may have been the dynamiting of a housing project, and of course there is the final image of the rocket disintegrating. But for nearly its entire length it stuck to a central theme, contrasting man's world with the natural world. Thus it carries meaning precisely by virtue of its rather more ordinary (but nonetheless often quite beautiful) images, whereas Baraka seems to have largely forsaken deeper meaning in the pursuit of stunning visuals.
So there you have it. Both are very valuable works, but in rather different ways. Baraka is not entirely bereft of meaning, of course, but what meaning there is derives from the individual images, and not from the film as a whole.
Baraka is without a doubt the more visually beautiful of the two. Many of the images here are, almost literally, poetry in motion; others are among the most awe-inspiring I've seen anywhere.
On the other hand, the complaints of some of the other reviewers about the editing are not without foundation. Whereas initially the central themes seem to be the wonders of the natural world and the various manners of worship of societies around the world, we are somewhat surprised to find segments showing an egg production facility, Taiwanese prostitutes, and scavengers at a Calcutta landfill. We are left wondering about relevance, and suspect that the editor unwisely indulged an urge to make a quick and none-too-subtle political point.
Equally importantly, the images in Baraka often depict quite exceptional scenes or places--the gas chambers at Auschwitz, say, or the pilgrims at Mecca, or various other religious monuments. Thus Baraka more or less forfeits any claim to be about "ordinary life" or somesuch.
Koyaanisqatsi, on the other hand, hewed to ordinary images from more-or-less ordinary life pretty much from beginning to end; one exception may have been the dynamiting of a housing project, and of course there is the final image of the rocket disintegrating. But for nearly its entire length it stuck to a central theme, contrasting man's world with the natural world. Thus it carries meaning precisely by virtue of its rather more ordinary (but nonetheless often quite beautiful) images, whereas Baraka seems to have largely forsaken deeper meaning in the pursuit of stunning visuals.
So there you have it. Both are very valuable works, but in rather different ways. Baraka is not entirely bereft of meaning, of course, but what meaning there is derives from the individual images, and not from the film as a whole.