"The incredible importance of a tree in the Spring suddenly all in blossoms. Miracles of every day,
*little moments of Paradise that are here now. Totally insignificant… but great."
*
Cinco horas y cuatro minutos de metraje doméstico filmado por Jonas Mekas a lo largo de casi veinte años, entre finales de los sesenta y mediados de los ochenta, no constituyen una película en el sentido convencional: son un diario visual, un archivo, un acto de duelo y celebración al mismo tiempo. La estructura fragmentaria —saltos abruptos, sobreimpresiones, intertítulos manuscritos que aparecen y desaparecen, música que entra y sale sin transición, no es un defecto a tolerar sino la tesis misma de la obra. El título lo anuncia con precisión: brief glimpses of beauty, no belleza sostenida ni arco narrativo, sino destellos. Esta gramática, heredada del trabajo de Mekas como figura fundacional del cine de vanguardia neoyorquino, rechaza deliberadamente la lógica de causa-efecto que el cine convencional nos entrena a esperar, y la reemplaza por algo más cercano a cómo funciona realmente la memoria: por asociación, por intensidad emocional, no por orden cronológico estricto.
Es aquí donde resulta productivo pensar la película contra el absurdismo de Camus, no porque lo contradiga frontalmente sino porque parte de un diagnóstico distinto frente a la misma pregunta: ¿qué hacemos con una vida que no tiene garantía de sentido? Camus, en El mito de Sísifo, postula que la conciencia humana exige coherencia y el mundo se la niega, y que esa fricción, el absurdo, solo puede sostenerse mediante la revuelta lúcida: seguir empujando la piedra sabiendo que no hay cima final, y encontrar en ese mismo acto, sin trascendencia ni consuelo, una forma de dignidad. Mekas, en cambio, no parece interesado en sostener esa fricción como problema filosófico a resolver. Su respuesta al vacío no es la revuelta sino la acumulación: filmar compulsivamente, capturar cada destello, un rostro, una nevada, un instante con sus hijos, como si la suma de fragmentos pudiera, no derrotar el absurdo, sino simplemente volverlo irrelevante. Donde Camus necesita que el héroe mire de frente la ausencia de sentido para después afirmar la vida pese a ella, Mekas parece esquivar esa confrontación entera: no hay revuelta lúcida contra el vacío, hay una negativa casi instintiva a dejar que el tiempo pase sin testigo.
Esa diferencia se vuelve más nítida si pensamos en El primer hombre, la novela inconclusa que Camus dejó en el manuscrito que llevaba consigo el día de su muerte, publicada póstumamente décadas después. Ahí Camus abandona la abstracción filosófica del ensayo y se vuelve, él también, archivista de la memoria: reconstruye su infancia en Argelia, la pobreza, la figura ausente del padre muerto en la Primera Guerra Mundial, la abuela severa, el Mediterráneo como paisaje formativo. Es el Camus más cercano a Mekas que existe, el que renuncia momentáneamente al rigor conceptual para simplemente registrar, con ternura casi torpe, lo que fue antes de que se perdiera del todo. Pero incluso ahí la diferencia persiste: El primer hombre sigue siendo prosa retrospectiva, una reconstrucción adulta y deliberada del pasado, mediada por la distancia y la síntesis narrativa. Mekas no reconstruye: filma en el momento mismo, sin la ventaja retrospectiva de saber qué resultará significativo. Su material es crudo, contemporáneo al instante vivido, no la memoria de la memoria sino la memoria en bruto, capturada antes de que el tiempo la organice en sentido.
Ambos comparten, eso sí, el mismo origen biográfico: el desplazamiento. Camus, hijo de pied-noir pobre, desterrado simbólicamente de una Argelia que la historia le arrebataría; Mekas, refugiado lituano que pasó por campos de trabajo forzado nazis antes de llegar a Estados Unidos. En los dos casos, la pérdida de un mundo entero genera el mismo impulso: que algo quede. Pero donde Camus, incluso en su gesto más íntimo y menos sistemático, sigue buscando comprender, dar forma narrativa a la pérdida, Mekas renuncia explícitamente a comprender y se conforma con atestiguar. No hay revuelta ni síntesis en As I Was Moving Ahead, solo la insistencia obstinada de seguir filmando, destello tras destello, como si la dignidad no estuviera en enfrentar el absurdo cara a cara sino en negarse, simplemente, a parpadear.

"The incredible importance of a tree in the Spring suddenly all in blossoms. Miracles of every day,
*little moments of Paradise that are here now. Totally insignificant… but great."
*
Cinco horas y cuatro minutos de metraje doméstico filmado por Jonas Mekas a lo largo de casi veinte años, entre finales de los sesenta y mediados de los ochenta, no constituyen una película en el sentido convencional: son un diario visual, un archivo, un acto de duelo y celebración al mismo tiempo. La estructura fragmentaria —saltos abruptos, sobreimpresiones, intertítulos manuscritos que aparecen y desaparecen, música que entra y sale sin transición, no es un defecto a tolerar sino la tesis misma de la obra. El título lo anuncia con precisión: brief glimpses of beauty, no belleza sostenida ni arco narrativo, sino destellos. Esta gramática, heredada del trabajo de Mekas como figura fundacional del cine de vanguardia neoyorquino, rechaza deliberadamente la lógica de causa-efecto que el cine convencional nos entrena a esperar, y la reemplaza por algo más cercano a cómo funciona realmente la memoria: por asociación, por intensidad emocional, no por orden cronológico estricto.
Es aquí donde resulta productivo pensar la película contra el absurdismo de Camus, no porque lo contradiga frontalmente sino porque parte de un diagnóstico distinto frente a la misma pregunta: ¿qué hacemos con una vida que no tiene garantía de sentido? Camus, en El mito de Sísifo, postula que la conciencia humana exige coherencia y el mundo se la niega, y que esa fricción, el absurdo, solo puede sostenerse mediante la revuelta lúcida: seguir empujando la piedra sabiendo que no hay cima final, y encontrar en ese mismo acto, sin trascendencia ni consuelo, una forma de dignidad. Mekas, en cambio, no parece interesado en sostener esa fricción como problema filosófico a resolver. Su respuesta al vacío no es la revuelta sino la acumulación: filmar compulsivamente, capturar cada destello, un rostro, una nevada, un instante con sus hijos, como si la suma de fragmentos pudiera, no derrotar el absurdo, sino simplemente volverlo irrelevante. Donde Camus necesita que el héroe mire de frente la ausencia de sentido para después afirmar la vida pese a ella, Mekas parece esquivar esa confrontación entera: no hay revuelta lúcida contra el vacío, hay una negativa casi instintiva a dejar que el tiempo pase sin testigo.
Esa diferencia se vuelve más nítida si pensamos en El primer hombre, la novela inconclusa que Camus dejó en el manuscrito que llevaba consigo el día de su muerte, publicada póstumamente décadas después. Ahí Camus abandona la abstracción filosófica del ensayo y se vuelve, él también, archivista de la memoria: reconstruye su infancia en Argelia, la pobreza, la figura ausente del padre muerto en la Primera Guerra Mundial, la abuela severa, el Mediterráneo como paisaje formativo. Es el Camus más cercano a Mekas que existe, el que renuncia momentáneamente al rigor conceptual para simplemente registrar, con ternura casi torpe, lo que fue antes de que se perdiera del todo. Pero incluso ahí la diferencia persiste: El primer hombre sigue siendo prosa retrospectiva, una reconstrucción adulta y deliberada del pasado, mediada por la distancia y la síntesis narrativa. Mekas no reconstruye: filma en el momento mismo, sin la ventaja retrospectiva de saber qué resultará significativo. Su material es crudo, contemporáneo al instante vivido, no la memoria de la memoria sino la memoria en bruto, capturada antes de que el tiempo la organice en sentido.
Ambos comparten, eso sí, el mismo origen biográfico: el desplazamiento. Camus, hijo de pied-noir pobre, desterrado simbólicamente de una Argelia que la historia le arrebataría; Mekas, refugiado lituano que pasó por campos de trabajo forzado nazis antes de llegar a Estados Unidos. En los dos casos, la pérdida de un mundo entero genera el mismo impulso: que algo quede. Pero donde Camus, incluso en su gesto más íntimo y menos sistemático, sigue buscando comprender, dar forma narrativa a la pérdida, Mekas renuncia explícitamente a comprender y se conforma con atestiguar. No hay revuelta ni síntesis en As I Was Moving Ahead, solo la insistencia obstinada de seguir filmando, destello tras destello, como si la dignidad no estuviera en enfrentar el absurdo cara a cara sino en negarse, simplemente, a parpadear.

I was wondering whether I should write my thoughts in notes throughout the film or not, but I really didn't want to forget everything since it's very long, but also I wanted just to watch it and focus on it. I ended up writing a few things

It was a big rollercoaster of emotions for me, at times I would despise it and literally just think of angry thoughts about how horrible this is and how people are pretentious for pretending to like it and I was ranting on and on about this in my head as I continued watching. Then there were times when the director talked about it and surprisingly made me change all my very, very strong opinions completely. I would think of how interesting some things he says are, how the structure is interesting and the meanings, the ideas, the way he says things. It was so interesting to me and I began to adore the movie. Then he stops and I begin pondering in thought again about how actually it's not that well made and even though the things he talks about and says are interesting, but it has nothing to do with the actual film. And again I get mad over it being just some random videos. At times, I was thinking things like I could literally just put all my videos from my gallery into one, add some sounds, edit and publish a movie. It doesn't make sense. I get mad again. Especially what initiates my strong emotions is the huge worldwide love for this movie, as it being such a highly rated film. It makes me address it as something truly special instead of discarding it, not really discarding, but just not paying attention to some things like how good it's made, what's good about it and so on. It being so highly rated basically makes it have a big reputation, raises expectations, and thus, I judge every detail. And I do stand on the statement that without the notes of the director, this would be horrid. The thing is, though, those notes of his are fascinating. Ok, so first, the fact that this movie is so long and not following a story or having any plot at all makes you really think, because well, there's nothing else to do. Normally, when watching a movie, you follow the story, pay attention to detail about the plot, about the characters and so on and so on. Lots and lots of different things that make the movie. With something like this, there's none of that. So you get bored in a way. Surprisingly, this time I actually was incredibly focused on the movie. I don't know what was it, but, because of some circumstances, I was in a perfect situation to watch a movie, maybe even perfectly for a movie like this. Maybe it was this movie that made me like this, instead of the other way around, but the point is that I was completely focused on it with zero problems and my mind just kept on ranting with thoughts. And not just empty thoughts, but really, really meaningful ones. That is why I gave up on trying to remember everything I wanted to talk about and instead decided to take notes, because my thoughts were overflowing. Because, well, like I said, there's nothing to do, there's no plot, nothing to think about, so you either think about things in your life, or you think about what you see. That way, you begin to think about such things that you'd normally always ignore, never even notice. Like anything at all, for example, what I found interesting was that even though the movie is so long and seemingly slow, it's not slow at all. I mean, there's nothing that can be slow about it, nothing that can move slowly, as there's no story. And the videos are literally sped up. That's insanity; it seems slow, long, but the whole time it's literally sped up. So basically, I do mention quite often that a movie raises many thoughts, but it's not always in the same way. Many times it's just because of the themes being talked about, the quotes being said, but here it's just the inability to do anything else and being forced to think. Actually, I find many things fascinating about this movie. But it all basically comes to the absurdity of it. Of how absurdly unusual it is, how absurdly irritating it is and yet it being able to leave me "satisfied", not sure if that's the right word to use even, because in a way I felt the opposite of being satisfied while watching it, but also I've had such thoughts and ideas, and came to such a conclusion for which I can thank this film. I guess another interesting thing was that it was partially Lithuanian, so I would notice at times some familiar things, like for example the happy birthday singing exact same as it's usual in Lithuania. Anyway, back to the notes. I wanted to say all these things about thoughts, because that's why I find them so fascinating. Firstly, they give you direction of what to think about, because that's pretty much the whole point of what you're doing, you're just thinking, running through thought after thought, it actually reminds me of meditation. Not that watching this is a similar experience as meditation, but that meditation puts your mind in such a state where you unlock deeper access to it or something and you just keep getting so many ideas that seem so incredibly important, so genius, like some kind of revolution. And here I experienced something similar, as I said before. But well then, going into details, the way the director was talking was interesting. Like it felt real and natural, he'd pause thinking, make mistakes, reword what he said, and I was thinking that well, this is a movie, he can create a script, record it as many times as he needs to get it right and yet he goes with something that doesn't seem complete, doesn't seem like it was even fully thought through. And yet that adds something. It adds that natural feeling, but it's also very important about what he says, the things he talks about. As I mentioned, I had so many very opposite emotions throughout the movie, so there were times then, in my mind, I was criticizing him for that, thinking about how this whole movie is horrible, the way he talks is not even thought of before, the "script" is just random videos put together, like he said, "by chance". So at times, well not even at times to be honest, mainly just at the beginning, I would despise this movie, but instead of turning it off or something like that I continued watching and let myself say exactly all I think about it, all I hate about it, every detail that bothers me, I'd just rant on and on about it in my head with rage even. I felt so negative yet satisfied by being able to let myself get it all out and continued watching. Then there'd come parts that just immediately change everything, that's another thing I found so interesting, the way I was able to go from literally despising this movie to loving it in mere moments. Again, that raises thoughts and ideas that I can't put into the review; it's just things and feelings that I'm unable to express through such a simple thing like a review. So yeah, I'm very glad that I decided to take notes on my thoughts, because even then, obviously, I can't express it all, but without doing so, I was always just feeling like my mind was overflowing with important thoughts that I was trying to keep inside and remember them and there would appear more and more. When I started writing, I literally wouldn't stop; I wouldn't run out of things to say. The opposite, even, I'd try to write fast so that I wouldn't lose the grasp of the next thing I want to say. About the director and his notes again, I think he's genuinely such a wise, interesting person. His thoughts, the way they're said are so satisfying and mean so much to me. I feel so understood, he says such things in such a way, where it feels like I was trying to say something, express something, yet I couldn't find a way to put my feeling into words and then he describes the exact things that I wanted to say without me saying it. That's what it felt like listening to him talk about anything. It feels oddly specific, but ironically, this is another thing that I am not sure how else to explain, put into words and you just have to have experienced it yourself to understand exactly what I mean. That felt so good, because well, life is full of misunderstandings, the having to explain your every action, every sentence, everything and always feeling like nobody gets it, nobody understands how you actually feel about those certain things and then you find something that sees you completely, explains exactly what you're thinking. It's such a rare feeling. Actually, I have gotten this feeling before, from philosophy books and ironically, that is one of the main things that made me so interested in philosophy overall. Just the feeling of being understood. I'm not sure why, but the director's notes hold this feeling. And well, if talking about all this in a clearer way instead of some feeling of feeling, which probably no one knows what I'm talking about, then the things that he said are also just generally really interesting and very quotable. I did think of writing down some quotes as well, but actually there were so many which I think were worth of writing down, that I couldn't even bother, especially since I was also taking notes of my thoughts besides that too and like I mentioned many times, I had a lot of them, which is I think very clear, since this is a very long review, I honestly think it will be my longest review, since I still feel like I have so much to say, I don't know when will I finally feel satisfied of having said enough. But this had such a strong impact on me, though, it's really ironic how, at the beginning, I despised this movie and now it holds a huge place in my heart and I think it's one of the most important films to me in my life. Genuinely, I didn't expect that at all before watching it. I've wanted to watch this for a while, because, well, it's made by a Lithuanian director and it's rated insanely high, but I would always put it off, because it was so insanely long. Now I just got an impulse to watch it and so I did. At first, I was actually comparing it to Satantango, which is another really long movie that is rated absurdly high. That one is seven and a half hours, though, so it's even longer than this, but there was a story, it had a plot and the point of it being so long was the slowness of it. Which is a reason why I expected the same from this, but there it was absurdly slow, like some insignificant scenes that barely change and show the same thing would take like five, ten minutes. And that I didn't like. Actually, now thinking back on it after just having watched this is really interesting, because now I understand the point of it being slow or about nothing, as in this case. However, when it has a story and nothing is just happening, or happening at an absurdly slow rate is really frustrating and it doesn't raise questions or interesting thoughts; instead, it just annoys you. So now I realize that the intent was probably what I described about this film, but I just didn't feel the same about it. So I hated that movie and so I didn't expect to like this either. That's why another thing I kept on thinking about was how annoying Letterboxd is, like why are such movies like this and Satantango so highly rated, that they don't deserve it. However, later I think that this strong anger strengthened my good emotions about this movie and that is why it means this much to me now. Another detail that was one of the first details that I noticed and really like while I was still hating on this movie was when the director was talking about how he's editing the record right now. Editing the sounds and putting them all together. I actually even remember what he said, kind of. He said something like "I'm here wondering. Wondering about me. No, that's actually an exaggeration, I'm not wondering, I'm just working. Working on the records and editing them." Obviously, it's not correct word for word as I'm quoting from memory, but the point was this. And that was really interesting, it gave such an imagination of how he's just sitting there recording his words, while editing all this. Yes, I remember he even described his room, where the records are on the shelves around him and things like that. I don't know why, but it felt so interesting to me, kind of giving the ability to see, or imagine in this case, the other side of this movie. How it was made, it made me think of the director more as another human. I mean, this is just such a movie where you cannot explain it easily by words, even I, while saying seemingly so much, cannot actually portray my feelings about it, cannot show it for what it is. It's very complex and I think human minds are very limited; we cannot freely talk about many things, like philosophy, for example, there are so many paradoxes and such thoughts that make you think you're crazy and so on. For example, very easy to understand what I mean by thinking of existentialism. But existentialism of everything. Absolutely everything at all. Literally words, colours, objects, chemicals, atoms. Why are they like that? Why are the words like that and my thoughts like that? Why am I thinking of this in such a way, using these words to think and describe that and for what purpose? The words that I'm using to think, why are they like that? Why can't I even think of that without using that itself? It's hard to understand, but that's what I mean: each thought, each idea brings more questions and things that we're incapable of understanding and you seem lost. So, how am I connecting this to the movie? It just comes down to thoughts and feelings again. It's not the movie itself which is so complex; it physically cannot be at such a scale, since it was made by a human. But the experience of watching it varies on so many factors and well, each person is different, so that changes everything. Changes what they feel, what they think about and none of that can be explained like this so simply, put into words. That's why I was taking existentialism as an example, because these are things that are hard to talk about, not possible to explain. And if anyone is even reading this, it probably seems that I'm spitting a bunch of nonsense and I don't doubt that no one probably understands what I intend by all this, but to put it simply, I've had many strong emotions and thoughts about this and it just means so much to me. So I advise everyone, no, I beg everyone to watch this, even though I cannot expect anyone to experience the same as I have, feel the same as I have and like it as much as I have, but I still think this is an absolute tremendous masterpiece and it's one of the best films ever created and I stand on that. It's just so absurd and ironic, how when I was watching it at the beginning, I literally hated this and I was literally ranting on in my head about how this is a horrible pretentious thing that people pretend to like and now how my opinion has changed. The director is genuinely such an interesting person to me; I really, really wish that I could have had a conversation with him.

I was wondering whether I should write my thoughts in notes throughout the film or not, but I really didn't want to forget everything since it's very long, but also I wanted just to watch it and focus on it. I ended up writing a few things

It was a big rollercoaster of emotions for me, at times I would despise it and literally just think of angry thoughts about how horrible this is and how people are pretentious for pretending to like it and I was ranting on and on about this in my head as I continued watching. Then there were times when the director talked about it and surprisingly made me change all my very, very strong opinions completely. I would think of how interesting some things he says are, how the structure is interesting and the meanings, the ideas, the way he says things. It was so interesting to me and I began to adore the movie. Then he stops and I begin pondering in thought again about how actually it's not that well made and even though the things he talks about and says are interesting, but it has nothing to do with the actual film. And again I get mad over it being just some random videos. At times, I was thinking things like I could literally just put all my videos from my gallery into one, add some sounds, edit and publish a movie. It doesn't make sense. I get mad again. Especially what initiates my strong emotions is the huge worldwide love for this movie, as it being such a highly rated film. It makes me address it as something truly special instead of discarding it, not really discarding, but just not paying attention to some things like how good it's made, what's good about it and so on. It being so highly rated basically makes it have a big reputation, raises expectations, and thus, I judge every detail. And I do stand on the statement that without the notes of the director, this would be horrid. The thing is, though, those notes of his are fascinating. Ok, so first, the fact that this movie is so long and not following a story or having any plot at all makes you really think, because well, there's nothing else to do. Normally, when watching a movie, you follow the story, pay attention to detail about the plot, about the characters and so on and so on. Lots and lots of different things that make the movie. With something like this, there's none of that. So you get bored in a way. Surprisingly, this time I actually was incredibly focused on the movie. I don't know what was it, but, because of some circumstances, I was in a perfect situation to watch a movie, maybe even perfectly for a movie like this. Maybe it was this movie that made me like this, instead of the other way around, but the point is that I was completely focused on it with zero problems and my mind just kept on ranting with thoughts. And not just empty thoughts, but really, really meaningful ones. That is why I gave up on trying to remember everything I wanted to talk about and instead decided to take notes, because my thoughts were overflowing. Because, well, like I said, there's nothing to do, there's no plot, nothing to think about, so you either think about things in your life, or you think about what you see. That way, you begin to think about such things that you'd normally always ignore, never even notice. Like anything at all, for example, what I found interesting was that even though the movie is so long and seemingly slow, it's not slow at all. I mean, there's nothing that can be slow about it, nothing that can move slowly, as there's no story. And the videos are literally sped up. That's insanity; it seems slow, long, but the whole time it's literally sped up. So basically, I do mention quite often that a movie raises many thoughts, but it's not always in the same way. Many times it's just because of the themes being talked about, the quotes being said, but here it's just the inability to do anything else and being forced to think. Actually, I find many things fascinating about this movie. But it all basically comes to the absurdity of it. Of how absurdly unusual it is, how absurdly irritating it is and yet it being able to leave me "satisfied", not sure if that's the right word to use even, because in a way I felt the opposite of being satisfied while watching it, but also I've had such thoughts and ideas, and came to such a conclusion for which I can thank this film. I guess another interesting thing was that it was partially Lithuanian, so I would notice at times some familiar things, like for example the happy birthday singing exact same as it's usual in Lithuania. Anyway, back to the notes. I wanted to say all these things about thoughts, because that's why I find them so fascinating. Firstly, they give you direction of what to think about, because that's pretty much the whole point of what you're doing, you're just thinking, running through thought after thought, it actually reminds me of meditation. Not that watching this is a similar experience as meditation, but that meditation puts your mind in such a state where you unlock deeper access to it or something and you just keep getting so many ideas that seem so incredibly important, so genius, like some kind of revolution. And here I experienced something similar, as I said before. But well then, going into details, the way the director was talking was interesting. Like it felt real and natural, he'd pause thinking, make mistakes, reword what he said, and I was thinking that well, this is a movie, he can create a script, record it as many times as he needs to get it right and yet he goes with something that doesn't seem complete, doesn't seem like it was even fully thought through. And yet that adds something. It adds that natural feeling, but it's also very important about what he says, the things he talks about. As I mentioned, I had so many very opposite emotions throughout the movie, so there were times then, in my mind, I was criticizing him for that, thinking about how this whole movie is horrible, the way he talks is not even thought of before, the "script" is just random videos put together, like he said, "by chance". So at times, well not even at times to be honest, mainly just at the beginning, I would despise this movie, but instead of turning it off or something like that I continued watching and let myself say exactly all I think about it, all I hate about it, every detail that bothers me, I'd just rant on and on about it in my head with rage even. I felt so negative yet satisfied by being able to let myself get it all out and continued watching. Then there'd come parts that just immediately change everything, that's another thing I found so interesting, the way I was able to go from literally despising this movie to loving it in mere moments. Again, that raises thoughts and ideas that I can't put into the review; it's just things and feelings that I'm unable to express through such a simple thing like a review. So yeah, I'm very glad that I decided to take notes on my thoughts, because even then, obviously, I can't express it all, but without doing so, I was always just feeling like my mind was overflowing with important thoughts that I was trying to keep inside and remember them and there would appear more and more. When I started writing, I literally wouldn't stop; I wouldn't run out of things to say. The opposite, even, I'd try to write fast so that I wouldn't lose the grasp of the next thing I want to say. About the director and his notes again, I think he's genuinely such a wise, interesting person. His thoughts, the way they're said are so satisfying and mean so much to me. I feel so understood, he says such things in such a way, where it feels like I was trying to say something, express something, yet I couldn't find a way to put my feeling into words and then he describes the exact things that I wanted to say without me saying it. That's what it felt like listening to him talk about anything. It feels oddly specific, but ironically, this is another thing that I am not sure how else to explain, put into words and you just have to have experienced it yourself to understand exactly what I mean. That felt so good, because well, life is full of misunderstandings, the having to explain your every action, every sentence, everything and always feeling like nobody gets it, nobody understands how you actually feel about those certain things and then you find something that sees you completely, explains exactly what you're thinking. It's such a rare feeling. Actually, I have gotten this feeling before, from philosophy books and ironically, that is one of the main things that made me so interested in philosophy overall. Just the feeling of being understood. I'm not sure why, but the director's notes hold this feeling. And well, if talking about all this in a clearer way instead of some feeling of feeling, which probably no one knows what I'm talking about, then the things that he said are also just generally really interesting and very quotable. I did think of writing down some quotes as well, but actually there were so many which I think were worth of writing down, that I couldn't even bother, especially since I was also taking notes of my thoughts besides that too and like I mentioned many times, I had a lot of them, which is I think very clear, since this is a very long review, I honestly think it will be my longest review, since I still feel like I have so much to say, I don't know when will I finally feel satisfied of having said enough. But this had such a strong impact on me, though, it's really ironic how, at the beginning, I despised this movie and now it holds a huge place in my heart and I think it's one of the most important films to me in my life. Genuinely, I didn't expect that at all before watching it. I've wanted to watch this for a while, because, well, it's made by a Lithuanian director and it's rated insanely high, but I would always put it off, because it was so insanely long. Now I just got an impulse to watch it and so I did. At first, I was actually comparing it to Satantango, which is another really long movie that is rated absurdly high. That one is seven and a half hours, though, so it's even longer than this, but there was a story, it had a plot and the point of it being so long was the slowness of it. Which is a reason why I expected the same from this, but there it was absurdly slow, like some insignificant scenes that barely change and show the same thing would take like five, ten minutes. And that I didn't like. Actually, now thinking back on it after just having watched this is really interesting, because now I understand the point of it being slow or about nothing, as in this case. However, when it has a story and nothing is just happening, or happening at an absurdly slow rate is really frustrating and it doesn't raise questions or interesting thoughts; instead, it just annoys you. So now I realize that the intent was probably what I described about this film, but I just didn't feel the same about it. So I hated that movie and so I didn't expect to like this either. That's why another thing I kept on thinking about was how annoying Letterboxd is, like why are such movies like this and Satantango so highly rated, that they don't deserve it. However, later I think that this strong anger strengthened my good emotions about this movie and that is why it means this much to me now. Another detail that was one of the first details that I noticed and really like while I was still hating on this movie was when the director was talking about how he's editing the record right now. Editing the sounds and putting them all together. I actually even remember what he said, kind of. He said something like "I'm here wondering. Wondering about me. No, that's actually an exaggeration, I'm not wondering, I'm just working. Working on the records and editing them." Obviously, it's not correct word for word as I'm quoting from memory, but the point was this. And that was really interesting, it gave such an imagination of how he's just sitting there recording his words, while editing all this. Yes, I remember he even described his room, where the records are on the shelves around him and things like that. I don't know why, but it felt so interesting to me, kind of giving the ability to see, or imagine in this case, the other side of this movie. How it was made, it made me think of the director more as another human. I mean, this is just such a movie where you cannot explain it easily by words, even I, while saying seemingly so much, cannot actually portray my feelings about it, cannot show it for what it is. It's very complex and I think human minds are very limited; we cannot freely talk about many things, like philosophy, for example, there are so many paradoxes and such thoughts that make you think you're crazy and so on. For example, very easy to understand what I mean by thinking of existentialism. But existentialism of everything. Absolutely everything at all. Literally words, colours, objects, chemicals, atoms. Why are they like that? Why are the words like that and my thoughts like that? Why am I thinking of this in such a way, using these words to think and describe that and for what purpose? The words that I'm using to think, why are they like that? Why can't I even think of that without using that itself? It's hard to understand, but that's what I mean: each thought, each idea brings more questions and things that we're incapable of understanding and you seem lost. So, how am I connecting this to the movie? It just comes down to thoughts and feelings again. It's not the movie itself which is so complex; it physically cannot be at such a scale, since it was made by a human. But the experience of watching it varies on so many factors and well, each person is different, so that changes everything. Changes what they feel, what they think about and none of that can be explained like this so simply, put into words. That's why I was taking existentialism as an example, because these are things that are hard to talk about, not possible to explain. And if anyone is even reading this, it probably seems that I'm spitting a bunch of nonsense and I don't doubt that no one probably understands what I intend by all this, but to put it simply, I've had many strong emotions and thoughts about this and it just means so much to me. So I advise everyone, no, I beg everyone to watch this, even though I cannot expect anyone to experience the same as I have, feel the same as I have and like it as much as I have, but I still think this is an absolute tremendous masterpiece and it's one of the best films ever created and I stand on that. It's just so absurd and ironic, how when I was watching it at the beginning, I literally hated this and I was literally ranting on in my head about how this is a horrible pretentious thing that people pretend to like and now how my opinion has changed. The director is genuinely such an interesting person to me; I really, really wish that I could have had a conversation with him.

Well, I’ve wanted to die over much less.

This beautiful piece of art lasts for almost 5 hours and you wouldn’t want to cut even 1 frame out. Nothing really monumental happens, yet with every blurred shot and camera adjustments, a moment arrives and leaves just as soon as it does.
There is terrible warmth in it all, an inadequacy that weighs on you.

What’s worse is that it’s admitted that none of us know what’s really happening, but it’s even more devastating understanding the kind of grief that even the speaker couldn’t exactly explain.

Well, I’ve wanted to die over much less.

This beautiful piece of art lasts for almost 5 hours and you wouldn’t want to cut even 1 frame out. Nothing really monumental happens, yet with every blurred shot and camera adjustments, a moment arrives and leaves just as soon as it does.
There is terrible warmth in it all, an inadequacy that weighs on you.

What’s worse is that it’s admitted that none of us know what’s really happening, but it’s even more devastating understanding the kind of grief that even the speaker couldn’t exactly explain.

Mekas utilizes a facet of human consciousness in this film and that is memories. The narrator presents to us his world and in turn, allows us to see the memories, not grounded in an objective, rigid reality, but the poetic and subjective reality of his.
Time moves independently in this universe. Nostalgia is the attempt to relive in these memories once again, but since time moves independently, we can only see them through our own consciousness, the memory is grounded only in a subjective, reconstructive experience.
This sentence sums up the entire viewing experience, Mekas wants us not to merely await the final part of the film, but to embrace the journey he sets in for us, to tread the paths he is in.

Mekas utilizes a facet of human consciousness in this film and that is memories. The narrator presents to us his world and in turn, allows us to see the memories, not grounded in an objective, rigid reality, but the poetic and subjective reality of his.
Time moves independently in this universe. Nostalgia is the attempt to relive in these memories once again, but since time moves independently, we can only see them through our own consciousness, the memory is grounded only in a subjective, reconstructive experience.
This sentence sums up the entire viewing experience, Mekas wants us not to merely await the final part of the film, but to embrace the journey he sets in for us, to tread the paths he is in.

Life does go on,,

Life does go on,,