The opening four and a half minutes of Carlos Reygadas‘ Silent Light, which I didn’t see in Cannes or Toronto because I’ve learned to say “later” with this guy. I seem to lack the depth and the patience to get through a Reygadas film without leaning forward in my seat and covering my face with my fingers. But watch this clip and tell me it’s not beautiful, primal and faintly haunting. In the vein of the opening moments of Mike Nichols‘ Catch 22, only much slower.

HE reader Christian Hamaker said this morning that “certain film sites are abuzz with the news that Silent Light will finally will have its American theatrical debut this Friday in New York. I’m not sure why this exhibition is considered an official ‘release’ — maybe I’ve got my terms wrong. I’d like to know if the film has an actual distributor, and whether it will be playing in other cities.”
I can’t even locate the Manhattan theatre it’s supposedly playing in this weekend, and that’s always a no-brainer.
Silent Light has an 81% positive Rotten Tomatoes rating from the creme de la cremes. N.Y. Times critic Manohla Dargis swooned, saying that it “provokes awe not just for its sheer beauty but for the astounding leaps in seriousness and maturity that Reygadas has made since Battle in Heaven.” Lesson of Darkness critic Nick Schager has called it “the near-epitome of art-cinema pretentiousness.” Slant‘s Ed Gonzalez, whom I almost never agree with, called Reygadas “a wonky impressionistic filmmaker, prioritizes aesthetics above social inquiry throughout the film, presenting the lives of his reclusive Mennonite community as something out of the imagination of Grant Wood.”