Late Jodorowsky

In press interviews after 1998 Sean Penn has frequently referenced his eagerness at the opportunity to act in a movie directed by Terrence Malick "the guy who made Badlands," but went on and reviled him based on the declining quality of his subsequent films from The Thin Red Line (1998, Malick) on. That's how I feel about Alejandro Jodorowsky, or the guy who made The Holy Mountain (1973, Jodorowsky). Badlands and The Holy Mountain were both released in 1973? What a coincidence.

For the record I think Malick is a genius from 1998's The Thin Red Line onward. I guess this all boils down to individual taste, but Malick's no imposter. He's discovered how to achieve alchemy through cinema.

On the other hand, unfortunately I have a bias against films from Jodorowsky's late period. Aside from The Holy Mountain, I worry he's too much an amalgam of things I hate: poetry, the circus, and art about the artist.

Endless Poetry (2016, Jodorowsky) is an autobiographical lyrical voyage dream through memory. With cinematography by Christopher Doyle and inspired with imagination and a thoroughly surreal directive, Jodorowsky's latest exegesis hits a profoundly emotional chord as it lets us share in its author's most private and nuanced life experiences as he sees fit.

The surreal inventiveness won me over instantly, when in the opening sequence the young ALEJANDRITO embarks on his maiden voyage with a crowd of black and white cardboard cutouts of figures whom I think represent ghosts, with skeleton-costumed figures supporting them bidding him farewell. Shortly following this we get a cardboard train that recalls Gondry. But beyond this one point, comparing the two is a stretch. Gondry is to surrealism playful, whereas Jodorowsky is deep. And I don't know if it comes from the world of theatre, but I love the black leotard shadow figures who pop in and out to help a character with a prop.

I have yet to verify this, but I suspect there are no VFX shots in Endless Poetry, and that's such a delightful touch. Everything staged seems to follow the logic and laws of the theatre. But a little more on Doyle's contribution. Shot on HD, the saturated reds—especially when that dude fucks that midget on her period in the red bedroom—dominate the pallet, but we get bold primaries, green and blue mostly; and the Doyle signature lit by practicals look goes full on here. For me the cinematography is the best thing going in Endless Poetry.

The crowd scenes are spectacular too. The red band of carnevale festival revellers were a great treat to end with. Well I find that Endless Poetry has won me over. I expected to rant on more of a tirade against it, but in the end Jodorowsky's passion and penchant for midgets, amputees, and carnevale are too entertaining to resist. Sadly, I feel like I respond to Endless Poetry more as an autobiographical document than on its own merits as a standalone work of art though.

The joys of Endless Poetry are episodic and sparse. And as much as I seem to be laboring to appreciate it here, Endless Poetry does suck. I mean seriously, a dude talking about wanting to be a poet has always been torture for me to endure in drama. It's the biggest so what? I've ever mustered. And how much poetry do we get? That shit about an illuminated butterfly and bringing fire from the dream? I still hate poetry so much.

Like poetry itself, Endless Poetry is worthless, trite, pretentious, and doesn't really say anything. I'll file this in the special category I think of as worthy of a single viewing in the theatre, but so help me God I hope I never have to sit through it again. But again, Doyle's beautiful cinematography and the mild pleasure of Jodorowsky's one-man recital were undoubtedly engaging.