Life on This Planet

To a considerable extent, the effect of Ron Fricke’s visionary, shimmeringly beautiful 1993 “Baraka,” which the American Cinematheque screens tonight through Saturday at the Egyptian, will depend on whether the viewer has seen Godfrey Reggio’s “Koyaanisqatsi” or its sequel, “Powaqqatsi.”

Like those two films, “Baraka” is a dazzling, disturbing collage of images of life on this planet warning of the dangers of our increasing detachment from nature and our pillaging of the Earth’s resources. It is far too similar to those earlier films for its own good, yet such is its sheer gorgeousness in its Todd-AO 70-millimeter grandeur and its superb sense of structure and movement that it is nevertheless affecting.

“Baraka” takes its title from an ancient Sufi word suggesting the essence of life from which the evolutionary process unfolds. Fricke, who was “Koyaanisqatsi’s” cinematographer, co-writer and co-editor, has said his favorite theme is “humanity’s relationship to the eternal,” which is precisely what he and his colleagues explore in “Baraka.”

It begins with a majestic half-hour survey of individuals in the timeless act of religious worship in ancient, glorious settings the world over. This sequence gives way to scenes of tribal peoples participating in traditional dances, but as the film moves toward its middle, the images grow increasingly ominous, with depictions of the Earth’s desecration and the frenetic, congested quality of modern urban existence. In this segment, Fricke uses the speeded-up cinematography techniques he first employed in “Koyaanisqatsi” to suggest humans becoming like ants and robots: He has a passion for shots of dehumanizing assembly lines.

This portion of “Baraka,” the most derivative of his earlier efforts, is its least-satisfying part, but gradually the film regains momentum as it completes its circle, returning to concerns of worship. Without a word, Fricke makes it perfectly clear that humanity has a choice and that survival depends on choosing the spiritual over the material and caring for others and for our planet as much as we care for ourselves. His key colleagues are producer and co-writer-editor Mark Magidson and inspired composer Michael Stearns, whose score at all times reinforces the film’s images.

“Baraka” was shot in 24 countries over 14 months, but none of its locations, many of which are unfamiliar, is identified. Technically, the film is awesome. Like the Reggio films, it does not hesitate to use the most advanced technology to deplore the effect of technology on our lives.

Fricke’s cinematography is so consistently magnificent in the compositions of its images and in their clarity, in its use of natural light and delicacy of hue, that Fricke creates a further paradox: His film is consistently beautiful even in its most ominous moments. At 7:30 p.m. Cinematheque information: (323) 466-FILM.

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The Laemmle Theaters’ latest “Documentary Days” weekend matinee series commences Saturday and Sunday at 10 a.m. at the Sunset 5 with Sharon Greytak’s engrossing and provocative “Losing It,” in which she interviews seven individuals in five countries to discover how they’re coping with physical handicaps.

Greytak, who uses a wheelchair as a result of severe rheumatoid arthritis that struck in childhood, has done a number of acclaimed films. In this project, she wanted to find out if others have succeeded in becoming as independent as she has. She discovers that few of the disabled people she interviews live in societies that are as sensitive to the disabled as the United States; she finds that Brazil, mired in poverty, seems more accepting of physical handicaps than the U.S.

In Siberia, she meets a woman whose polio has restricted her to a wheelchair and a young man with cerebral palsy who can walk with difficulty but uses a wheelchair away from home. In the post-Soviet era, the rights of the disabled have expanded while financial aid has dwindled. The woman is a resourceful activist, but the young man, despite his mastery of four languages, faces a bleak future.

In Hong Kong, Greytak meets Edith Mok, a successful corporate workaholic who suffered a stroke in her late 40s and now, several years later, continues her rehabilitation zealously. Mok, who walks with a limp, believes it will be impossible for her to find a job and has confronted widespread hostility. At the same time she has drawn closer to her husband.

In the lovely old city of Vicenza, Italy, Greytak visits an artist she had known as a student. A decade earlier, Marino Crivellari developed a rare, crippling blood disorder. Since then, he has become rehabilitated except for his speech, which is so slow and drawn out that he remains isolated.

In Sao Paulo, she meets polio-afflicted Edna Maria Pacheco, who supports herself and her son by selling candy at traffic lights but cannot count on aid when she can no longer work.

Brazilian writer Marcelo Paiva became a quadriplegic after an accident. Admitting that his renown and financial resources have been a plus, Paiva became determined not to be robbed of the love of life he enjoyed before the accident.

Greytak winds up her survey in New York, where she talks to Carol Robertson, who has used a wheelchair since suffering polio as a child and who is both police commissioner and the mother of two.

As Greytak considers these people, she expresses an appreciation for the perspective she’s received from her determination not to allow her disability to become a limitation. As a personal memoir, “Losing It,” a beautifully shot and composed film, might be appropriately called “Gaining It.” Laemmle information: (323) 848-3500. “Losing It” also screens March 30 and 31 at 11 a.m. at the Monica 4-Plex, 1332 2nd St., Santa Monica, (310) 394-9741; April 6 and 7 at the Playhouse 7, 673 E. Colorado Blvd., Pasadena, (626) 844-6500; and April 20 and 21 at the Lido Cinema, Via Lido at Newport, Newport Beach, (949) 673-8350.

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Having received a new heating and air conditioning system, San Pedro’s 1931 Art Deco movie palace, the Warner Grand, 478 West 6th St., is ready to reopen Saturday with a 7:30 p.m. screening, preceded by a 6:45 p.m. reception, of the evergreen “Grand Hotel” (1932), the first all-star talkie.

With one of the most exciting casts ever assembled on the screen in a story rich in romance and drama, it represents Hollywood at its best, a rare instance when art and entertainment are one.

What is remarkable about this MGM best picture Oscar winner is its timelessness. There is nothing dated about its plot or performances. And the sets, costumes and women’s coiffeurs have been designed with such restraint that they transcend their Art Deco period.

Adapted from William A. Drake’s stage version of Vicki Baum’s best-selling novel, “Grand Hotel” is perhaps the first of many films to use a single device or situation to link several unrelated but contemporaneous stories. In the setting of a first-class Berlin hotel, Baum found the ideal situation in which to present a cross-section of humanity. In the course of 24 hours, she shows a group of individuals at moments of crisis in their lives.

There is Great Garbo, a weary and fading Russian ballerina who is revitalized--at least for the moment--by the love of John Barrymore, a penniless, polished baron who has come to steal her jewels but stays to lose his heart. There is Wallace Beery, a German industrialist facing imminent ruin, who hires Joan Crawford as a stenographer and then some. Finally, there is Lionel Barrymore, a minor bookkeeper in Beery’s firm, who is taking a first and final fling before being overtaken by a fatal disease. Directed sensitively by Edmund Goulding, “Grand Hotel” will always be grand. (310) 548-7672.

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To coincide with Sunday’s Academy Awards presentations, the Silent Movie is presenting William Wellman’s World War I epic “Wings” (1927), the first winner of the best picture Oscar.

A $1.7-million blockbuster for its day, it will be shown with an intermission, tinted coloring and a process called Magnascope that widened the projected image for the aerial sequences. The silent classic may seem a trifle corny, but it retains tremendous verve, thanks to the lusty direction of William Wellman.

One sure-fire sequence goes this way: An All-American flying ace, played by Charles (Buddy) Rogers, is heading back to his base in his Sopwith Camel when out of the clouds comes a red Fokker D-VIII. Executing an Immelmann--a half loop, a half roll and a turn--Rogers quickly catches up with the German aircraft and fires away, not hearing the frantic cry, “Don’t shoot, Buddy! It’s me, Dave!” What he couldn’t know is the Fokker’s pilot is none other than his pal (Richard Arlen), who had been shot down by the Huns and is trying to get back across Allied lines in a stolen plane.

There’s also plenty going on down on the ground. Rogers and Arlen, small-town best friends from boyhood, are in love with the same girl, played by Clara Bow, who turns up on the battlefront, having signed up with the Red Cross. John Monk Saunders wrote the story.

Be on the lookout for Gary Cooper in a bit part that helped launch both his career and a torrid off-screen romance with Bow.

“Wings,” which will be presented with live musical accompaniment, screens Friday and Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 1 p.m. 611 N. Fairfax Ave. (323) 655-2520.

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The Nuart will open Friday a one-week run of a new 35-millimeter wide-screen print of Jacques Demy’s first film, the romantic and lyrical “Lola” from 1961, starring Anouk Aimee (star of the current “Festival in Cannes”). Aimee plays a Nantes cabaret dancer whose heart still belongs to the sailor who deserted her seven years earlier, leaving her to raise their son alone. With music by Michel Legrand. (310) 478-6379.