Kumaré

B+ Religious documentary

  • Directed by Vikram Gandhi

Can a religious hoax improve people’s lives? That wasn’t the question New Jersey-born Vikram Gandhi planned to answer in his autobiographical documentary, but it soon became the central thesis of his story. And, at least if we take Gandhi’s version of events at face value, the answer is yes.

As a young man, Gandhi rejected the Hindu faith of his parents (as far as I know, he is not related to the famous Mahatma). But the concept of gurus fascinated him, and raised his skepticism. Both in America and India, these “holy” men appeared to be primarily after money, power, or sex.

Then he got an idea. He studied yoga, let his hair and beard grow, imitatedkumare his grandmother’s accent, and moved to Phoenix with a new identity: a holy man named Sri Kumaré. He had two accomplices–a yoga teacher and a marketing expert.

And he acquired a modest following of 14 people. He probably didn’t want more; too much attention and someone would have blown his cover. Besides, this crowd was small enough for him to realize a one-on-one relationship with each of them.

He immediately finds himself over his head. His very first follower complains of job-related stress. When he asks about her work, she tells him that she’s a lawyer representing people on death row. In other words, her clients are broke, usually evil, and about to be murdered by the state. He’s speechless, but he’s required to offer comfort. Others are in bad marriages, overweight, or depressed. Somehow, this charlatan is supposed to give them sage wisdom. That Gandhi recognizes this dilemma and feels guilty about it speaks well of him.

As he goes along, listening to people and encouraging them to find their inner strength, he does indeed help them. Starting as a fake guru, he becomes the real thing.

But he’s living a lie and he knows it. He loves these people and they love him. By his own admittance, he’s had closer human relationships as Kumaré then he ever had as Vikram Gandhi, and that only makes things worse. He always intended to reveal his secret identity, but emotional intimacy makes it harder.

Gandhi also seems reluctant to reveal everything to his film audience, and that’s the movie’s biggest problem. With one very brief exception, neither Gandhi nor anyone else ever mentions the presence of cameras, despite the fact that everyone must have been aware of their presence. How did he explain to his followers that he was directing a documentary about them all?

Another question: When Gandhi and his accomplices move to Phoenix, they get a very nice house with a large swimming pool. Where did the money come from? Certainly not his followers; he didn’t have any, yet.

And these doubts lead to a bigger one: Did Gandhi edit the film to present himself in the best light? We get to know several followers whose lives were improved by their encounter with this conman. Were there others who felt nothing but conned?

Gandhi may not have been entirely honest about his dishonesty, but he succeeded in making an entertaining and thought-provoking documentary. Religion, after all, is not about divine truth, but ritual, care, and compassion. The fictional Kumaré brought those to at least some of his very real followers.

Samsara

A Documentary

  • Directed by Ron Fricke

How do you describe a feature-length, non-fiction motion picture without a story or words? How do you discuss something that works entirely on a sensory, emotional level, and yet still has a lot to say?

Let me start with this: I sat, enraptured, throughout Samsara’s entire 102 minutes, my eyes and mouth open in astonishment. When I wasn’t overwhelmed with the beauty of nature, or with the more spiritual beauty of humanity, I was appalled by my species’ utter disregard for other animals, other people, and the planet that we all must live on.

If you’ve seen Fricke’s previous opus, Baraka, you have some idea what you’re in for–a succession of stunningly beautiful, and occasionally shocking images, accompanied by a hypnotic musical score and almost no other sound. He likes landscapes, rituals, cities, and images of dehumanization. Although there’s no real story, it’s structured like one. Or if not a story, then at least a journey. You definitely feel as if you have travelled somewhere and returned home by the end. And in a very real sense, you have.

samsara

With a small crew and a large camera, Fricke traveled the world, filming people and scenery, often in slow motion. Among other locations, he shot in Israel, South Korea, France, Egypt, Japan, the United Arab Eremites, and several of the United States of America.

One of Fricke’s best techniques is to shoot a person straight on, and have them simply look directly into the camera. He does this with Asian factory workers, Africans still living traditional lives in the bush, and an American soldier with a severely deformed face. Sometimes they look curious, sometimes tough, and often show no emotion, at all. But you can’t avoid their eyes or their humanity.

Among Samsara‘s most striking images:

  • Buddhist monks painstakingly creating an enormous and beautiful sand painting.
  • Deserted houses filled with sand and debris, with broken computers, TVs, and cars left behind.
  • Canyon walls so close together they felt more like a sunlit cave.
  • The baptisms of babies and young children, shot in slow motion to truly catch their emotional response. The ritual appeared to scare the babies but delight the toddlers and pre-schoolers.
  • Factory workers, filmed in fast motion, going about their endlessly boring work.
  • Very large, fat pigs, laying on their sides in cages designed to keep them from standing up, as their babies fought for a teet.
  • The funeral of a young black man, buried in a coffin designed to look like a handgun.

As he did with Baraka, Fricke shot Samsara in the 70mm format, providing a level of detail impossible to capture digitally or with standard 35mm film. Unfortunately, both currently announced Bay Area engagements will show it in 35mm, which loses a good deal of the image quality (this is how I saw it). But thanks to that large negative, it still looks better than any other 35mm print you’re likely to see. No 70mm prints will be made, but producer Mark Magidson has stated that 4K DCP (the best digital format) looks better than a 70mm print, and is the optimal way to see Samsara. Unfortunately, outside of megaplexes that would never show this kind of picture, there are to my knowledge no 4K theaters in the Bay Area. (For more on this, see When You Least Expect It: The Return of 70mm.)

But even in 35mm, Samsara is not a film to be missed. It belongs on the big screen, and will stay in your heart.

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