Rivers and Tides

I saw this movie a couple years ago in the theatre, but it's only now been released on DVD. Before I say what it's about, let me remind you that my tastes in movies tend toward the exciting and the action- and/or witty dialogue packed. I am not generally a fan of movies which are described as "beautiful," "painterly," "stately," or any of the other adjectives which are nearly always code for "pretty to look at, excruciatingly dull to experience." I'm also not too big on documentaries-- for non-fiction, I'd almost always prefer to read a book.

Okay. Keep this in mind when I tell you how much I loved Rivers and Tides, which is a a) beautiful and painterly b) documentary about a Scottish artist who makes sculptures out of natural, found materials right where he found them, then photographs them before they reach the end of their natural lifespans, which are often quite brief. The movie has little narration, and mostly just follows Andy Goldsworthy as he putters about the countryside building things.

Remember my post about Zen? This movie captures the experience of living in the moment, of artistic flow and the difficulty of creation, and the beauty of things that cannot last better than anything I've ever seen. It shows you Hitchcockian suspense in an icicle sculpture teetering under its own weight, and gives you a flash of satori when an offhand remark by the artist about the chemical composition of a red stone suddenly makes you realize not why he does what he does, but actually makes you momentarily stand in his shoes.

It's an extraordinary movie that I don't think many people saw, and I highly recommend that you don't miss it.