Transcript of Introduction to "A Difficult Double Feature" 11/8/7

Afternoon everyone and welcome to the Chauvel Cinematheque for this difficult double feature of Michael Snow's Wavelength and Andy Warhol's Vinyl. I've borrowed the term "difficult' from contemporary classical or art music circles (thanks Mr. X) where it's used to describe challenging works of art. There is a sort of hierarchy of difficulty. The word "advanced" is used to describe works that are a little challenging, while the word "difficult" is used to describe works that are a lot challenging. Beyond that, there's "impenetrable", a word used to describe works that resist engagement or interpretation. I do hope today's screening won't be too impenetrable. You could also say these films are somewhat "medicinal", as they may taste horrible going down, but they make you feel better afterwards.


At my most cynical, I sometimes think that narrative films are nothing more than bedtime stories; cosy, comforting tales of heroes and villains that lull and reassure the viewer to sleep, placing them in the position of a child, and creating a relationship with the film akin to that of a child and a parent. Difficult films matter because they attempt to transform this relationship into a more adult one, where the film and the viewer are on equal terms. They engage the intellects instead of the emotions and elevate film to the level of sophistication found in modern art, sculpture and music.


In every cinematheque program, I try to program at least one difficult film. Wax, or the Discovery of Television among the Bees, that was pretty difficult, Harry Smith's Heaven and Earth Magic - that was very difficult, but today's films, will likely be the most difficult screenings of all. It is with some trepidation that I programmed these films. They were both films I was thinking of programming but decided against it for fear they would be too alienating. However, when I asked for suggestions for the new program, these two films were the two most requested, so if you don't like them you only have yourselves to blame. I like to think of myself as a showman. I like to put on a good show, and have people enjoy themselves. That's not to say you can't enjoy yourselves watching these films, but it's a different kind of enjoyment to the pleasures of narrative cinema.


I feel like I should give you something to work with here, some food for thought, something to mull over as you watch these films, but to do so runs the risk of misleading you, or sending you in the wrong direction, because ultimately the meaning of these films, especially Wavelength, is entirely subjective, even impossible. To be honest, I don't understand what this film is about anyway. I've read many articles, reviews and essays on wavelength, and none of them seem to understand it either. Instead, I will quickly sketch out some biographical and production details for both films.



The first film today, Wavelength, was directed by Canadian filmmaker Michael Snow in 1966 and released in 1967. Snow was a multidisciplinarian: artist, painter sculptor, jazz musician and filmmaker. He received the Canadian equivalent of an OBE and an Honorary Doctorate from the Sorbonne in France, the first artist to do so since Picasso. After watching Wavelength you may think to yourself - Gee, is it that easy? Snow is held in great esteem in Canada and elsewhere and this work was a big influence on the development of underground and experimental film, video art and installation based art.


Snow describes his work as "philosophical toys". He claims wavelength was informed by a spiritual impulse, and it is indeed a mandala-like object for meditation. The idea being that if you stare at something long enough, you will begin to see what's there, the implicit nature of the thing, if you like. Anyone who has ever sat and stared at a painting for forty five minutes will likely enjoy this film. For the rest of you, it's not too late to catch the Dixie Chicks playing in Cinema two.

The second film today is Andy Warhol's Vinyl, a very minimalist adaptation of the Anthony Burgess novel, A Clockwork Orange. Vinyl was produced in 1965, four years before Kubrick's adaptation. I'm sure you are all familiar with Kubrick's version of the film so you may have some fun noticing the similarities,if any. Apparently, Kubrick had seen and admired both films. The last shot in The Shining (a slow track into a photo of Jack Nicholson) has been referred to as Wavelength-lite. Similarly, the opening shot in Kubrick's version of Clockwork... bears resemblance to the opening of the Warhol version. It has been said that Wavelength is the fruit of Warhol's anti-aesthetic, yet the films are very different, despite their minimalist production strategies.

In closing, I'd just like to say that if you do find yourself bored by these films, it could be worse. I could have screened Warhol's Sleep, an eight hour film consisting entirely of a sleeping figure, or Empire, a twenty four hour film consisting of nothing but a shot of the Empire State Building.


Thanks a lot. Enjoy the films.