ko·yaa·nis·qatsi (from the Hopi language), n.
1. crazy life 2. life in turmoil 3. life out
of balance 4. life disintegrating 5. a state
of life that calls for another way of living.
There is a clear moral lesson to Koyaanisqatsi. It starts with a magnificent montage of nature, lacking humans, accompanied by the repeated chant “Koyaanisqatsi!”, and ends on the same chorus (and other verses). A title card appears, followed by the meaning of the term, and the translation of the Hopi “prophecies” sung. As Roger Ebert writes:
This film has one idea, a simplistic one. It contrasts the glory of nature with the mess made by man. But man is a messy beast, given to leaving reminders of his presence all over the surface of planet Earth. Although a Hopi word is used to evoke unspoiled nature, no Hopis are seen, and the contrast in the movie doesn’t seem to be between American Indian society and Los Angeles expressways, but between expressways and a beautiful world empty of man. Thanks, but no thanks.
An example of a work where the form is an absolute masterpiece beyond measure, while the moral matter is bland and trite. As one eliminates Jordan’s Wizards tenure when reflecting on his basketball career, a lover of cinema must eliminate the final title card and all that follows in good faith. It also helps that this work is completely predicated on form rather than matter.
Time-lapse is the principal formal achievement in this film. It is implemented in two ways: temporal timelapse and spatial timelapse. Temporal timelapse, timelapse-as-default, is present the most. The structures of modernity, expressways, buildings, and lights (neon and non-neon) are composed in compressed time, uncovering abstract forms that are breathtaking. These are alien compositions at a gigantic scale.
Spatial timelapse appears less. There are shots of crowded spaces, people arrive and exit, form patterns of movements, where frames are stacked on top of each other. Therefore, we see moving lines, slants, and twitches (that remains in immobility) as apparitions occupying a liminal space.
Certain still compositions of caves and deserts exhibit an unusual alien form, which makes it visually interesting (an understatement). Compositions in scale are consistent throughout the movie; the vast modern world and a few shots of nature (in particular, a shot of the water surface) resemble the work of Andreas Gursky.
Koyaanisqatsi is that type of movie, in the same sphere as abstract art, the possibility of visual art not merely as representation through the surface, but the medium where surface gains primary importance. Similarly, as opposed to the narrative arranged in frames, the necessary form of cinema, the arrangement of frames itself becomes paramount. Aptly, the salient frames in the movie are compressed frames, frames that hold more frames inside.