You won't be disappointed!

Truly Dreadful Film

Close shines in drama with strong language, adult themes.

The tone of this movie is interesting -- the stakes are both dramatic and high, but it's balanced with a lot of fun, tongue and cheek dialogue.

Much like Prousts "A la recherche du temps predue" Mekas's, "brief glimpses of beauty" is a refleciton on the years of his life past as seen through the eyes of a man who is percieving his own death. Mekas beautifully edits together the scraps of film that fell to his cutting room floor while he was working on projects he "percieved" as important, not realizing that what was truly important were the deatils that he missed, that he left out in favor of the shot in focus, the shot in composition. He strings together these family films of his children, his wife, his friends, New York during a lightning storm, all while narrating the film from what seems to be "His Death Bed." This film is by far one of the more touching, more emotional films I have ever seen. It is an homage to life as much as it is a recognition that beauty lies in the places we least expect it and as we walk we may occasionally catch brief glimpses of it, if we are lucky enough to have our eyes that wide open.

At 288 minutes, this nearly 5 hour epic is a challenge. But its rewards are well worth the effort. Jonas Mekas has managed to produce a film that forces its viewer to truly understand the beauty and majesty that is life. Highly recommended, you will be a better person for seeing it.

No plot, no story, no tension, no conflict, no irony, no dialog, often out of focus, jittery and nearly 5 hours long. All this and it is one of the greatest documentaries I have ever seen. A stunningly positive and beautiful film that is just about the happiness and joy of family, New York City, country getaways and filming. This is such a compelling work, it did not even seem that long. This is the work of a man at peace with his own happiness. We should all be so lucky.

Mekas seemingly attempts to re/de construct his life, splicing together apparently random snippets of home movies he shot over the past 30-odd years. Birthdays, Travels, Picknicks in Central Park, his daughters first steps, a parade in New York City, jumbled and bunched together, occasionally introduced or accompanied by short bits of rumination in written or spoken form. Mekas comments his own life (at least the parts he decided to show us), talks of friends and family and things past. And of his Faible for all things unimportant, which is the core of this work of life. In the end it's an hypnotic, melancholic piece of epic proportions, an Ode to the small wonders of life, those "glimpses of beauty".