Object #36 - Razor - Koyaanisqatsi (1982)

Dir. Godfrey Reggio

Koyaanisquatsi is an experience. Around the half-way mark, as a shot of a motorway packed with cars is shown, with accompanying music by Philip Glass, I was intrigued, in awe, and more than anything, exhausted. There is no dialogue in Koyaanisquatsi, no plot, no characters. The entire film is composed of shots of nature (primarily canyons), factories, airports, the city, and people. With only these tools, and a fantastically epic, brooding, sweeping score by Glass, I was left exhausted and anxious. It's masterful film-making, and one of the biggest steps in the use of montage since Battleship Potemkin, which I've written about previously. It's also one of the few times where the 'Life out of balance' (this being the translation of the Hopi word koyaanisquatsi) theme was conveyed by the film to me. Why in that shot of the motorway? I couldn't really tell you. I think it may be due to the simply overwhelming feeling of LIFE in those cars. Those are real people in those cars, captured on film, and still being viewed to this day thanks to this film.

This is where the razor come in. Nearer to the end of the film, we begin to see portraits of people, usually walking the street. They can see the camera, and do in fact look at the camera either directly or out of the corner of their eye. Their behaviour shifts due to their observation. This is a psychological and social phenomenon called the Observer Effect.  It's here in Koyaanisquatsi in pure form. Out of the many beautiful shots of people in this sequence, it is the old man with the disposable razor that stood out to me the most.

An aside, Blade Runner is probably my favourite film. At the end of that film, we have the monologue by the dying android Roy Batty. 

I've... seen things... you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion; I watched c-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate... All those... moments... will be lost, in time, like [chokes up] tears... in... rain. Time... to die.

This moment of film is the most beautiful I've ever experienced. It has stuck with me since I saw it for the first time, and it will stay with me for the rest of my life. I can even recite it from memory. Due to this, it weaves into my viewing of other films when relevant. In Koyaanisquatsi, in any moment when people are on screen, whether in close up or at a distance, I thought of the final part of that monologue. "All these moments will be lost in time". Here, on film, these moments survive. Look at the above screenshot. It's beautiful. That man's face is beautiful. The bags under his eyes, his hat, the way his jaw slackens as he stares right down the lens of this intruding camera. There are around 10 or so people portraits in the sequence, not including crowd shots. Each is beautiful in their own way. So why the old man with the razor?

Simply put, because it's unique. In this sequence of the film we see shots of factory workers, people driving around the city, and crowd shots, all sped up via time-lapse. It's astoundingly effective, making me think how like ants we appear as our crowd behaviour governs us as an entire species. The only true individuals in these overhead shots of crowds at a train concourse are the ones who chose to stay still in the middle of the crowd for an extended amount of time, but they also pass, in time. Contrasted with this is the slow motion shots of people walking the street, and so we study them, as they are not in a crowd, they are people, individuals. 

The old man with the razor is unique among this crowd. Mainly, due to the brightly coloured razor. He is shaving himself in this public city street, with no care in the world as to how socially acceptable this is. To be honest, it isn't exactly socially unacceptable, but it's unusual. In the context of the film though it comes across as a life-raft of individuality in the sea of interchangeable crowd members. His age though makes me think that this individuality is transient. To be blunt, he'll die sooner than the rest of the crowd, and so it feels pointless. Actually, even without his age, due to the editing of the film, we know that this man will be lost to us. This moment of individuality will be lost not only in the real world, but in the context of the film, as we see another crowd shot, another person in slo-mo, another landscape shot. 

Beauty comes from the fact that this moment was captured, and due to the editing of the sequence, is unique. This man shaving has reached an enhanced meaning due to its inclusion in the film, and this only happened due to him walking the street at this exact moment in time, and choosing to shave at this exact moment. Think of the chain of events that led to this moment being captured. His choice of when to shave at all times in his life for his hair to grow long enough to choose to shave on the street; the documentarians choosing that place to record, and that particular time; and the choice to include this person in the edit, and at this specific time in the film. I love this idea in general, the causal chain-of-events of life.  You know what's really great about Koyaanisquatsi? The very fact that it's acted as a looking glass for this interpretation. Other films do this, but honestly every person who views Koyaanisquatsi will have their own response to it, and to this single moment of a man and his razor.