Memorable, crazy movie

Good story, Not enough for a whole film

The performances transcend the film's tropes, grounding it in characters that feel more complete than this subgenre often produces.

By the time the dramatic fireworks start popping off, each one feels earned.

...of the surrealism of its subject's artistic output and the rather unassuming, almost prosaic, nature of the autumnal man he became. The brief glimpses we get of Swiss artiste H. R. "Alien" Giger's younger, active self are, indeed, almost a surreal contrast to the somehow fragile elder we see poking about his home throughout most of this somewhat melancholic bio-documentary. Giger proves to be a polar opposite to expectations: congenial and unassuming (though much subdued by failing health--he died shortly after filming wrapped), not at all moody or dark as we might imagine. It might have been nice if writer/director Belinda Salin had explored Giger's younger days in more depth (the loss of his first love, Swiss actress/model Li Tobler, was undoubtedly a major influence), but the tale she spins still fascinates, ably abetted by the precise editing of Birgit Munsch and evocative image-crafting of cinematographer Eric Stitzel, with Peter "More Than Honey" Scherer's music providing suitably somber counterpoint as needed. Very much worth a watch by Giger fans, despite its biographical sketchiness, as well as students of the documentary form. This one goes into the plus column of my local library system video buyer's reputation.

He feels at home in places we would flee from and lives his life among the very things we fear. Throughout his life, H. R. Giger had inhabited the world of the uncanny, a dark universe on the brink of many an abyss.Most of us know Giger from "Alien" if we know him at all. His work is very recognizable and has been emulated by many artists over the last thirty years or so. But we may not know much about him beyond his aliens. What of his personal life or other work? This film digs into that and we see just what sort of person he is (or was). People may even be surprised to find that Giger was European. This was no secret, but perhaps not common knowledge. We also learn how he got his start, really relying on posters to get his work in font of audiences. Not your typical method.

Just what you might have expected: HR Giger's home is a museum of the macabre. The celebrated creator of the Alien monster and a painter, sculptor, and architect as well, Giger inhabits a world of gargoyles and monsters, straight from his imagination to us. Dark Star: H R Giger's World is an intriguing documentary sometimes as weird and inscrutable as his mind. It certainly doesn't burden the audience with analysis.As director Belinda Sallin tracks us through the baroque museum that is his Zurich house, we see a phantasmagoria of monsters from Egyptian-monarch-looking portraits to old skulls, one of which he dragged around by string when a young boy. While the camera passes his Oscar on a shelf, the spare narration overall gives no nod to this achievement (Oscar for best visual effects for Ridley Scott's Alien), typical of the documentary's minimalist approach.Appearances by his collaborators like Gabriel Fischer, a metal musician, sometimes refer to the artist's kindness, and they occasionally give insight into the psycho-sexual, violent undertow of his startling images. The now humble man appears as if in the aftermath of a stroke, moving and speaking slowly and deliberately, but always kindly as he autographs body parts and throws off a sly smile or two.Perhaps the purpose of limiting explanation about his work is to let the array of deeply symbolic creations out of his subconscious speak for themselves, almost defying analysis. Although Freud would have a holiday assessing Giger's innermost demons, Giger's expressionism remains delightful impressionism for viewers.

A simple visual tour of Hans Rudolf "H.R." Giger's home and museum could have filled a feature-length documentary. This project, however, predominantly glimpses the artist at work in his home (or, due to his dwindling health, merely residing there), meeting with his agent (Leslie Barany) and associates (including Hans H. Kunz, poster designer, and Stanislav Grof, the author of a new book on Giger), and conversing with his assistant (Tom Gabriel Fischer), his wife (Carmen Maria Giger), and his mother-in-law about his ideas and motivations. And, of course, there's quite a focus on the artwork itself, with careful pans across some of his most renowned and absorbing paintings.A bit of Giger's personal history is covered, from his humble origins in Switzerland to his success with selling reproductions of his work in the poster format, along with extremely brief notes on his inexplicable techniques and airbrush methods. The fevered inspirations of uncomfortable dreams, a few LSD trips, and vivid personal fears (one dating back to a childhood experience at a museum, involving a mummy and his sister's amusement at his consternation) are spoken about at greater length. The themes of birth, life, and death, blended with Egyptian motifs, sex, and eroticism, are also commented upon (and visually prominent).But there's little dialogue to interrupt the onslaught of imagery, which actually hurts the potential for audiences unfamiliar with Hansruedi's history to enjoy the film - particularly when the parts of his life involving his nine-year relationship with Li Tobler (whose last name isn't even mentioned in the film), a woman whose likeness appears in many of Giger's works (and who committed suicide after suffering from severe depression), are skipped over so quickly. The film assumes viewers are familiar with that subject, Giger's career milestones, and even his relationships with the various talking heads, and therefore dispenses with necessary introductions to, and reiterations about, his associations and most famous accomplishments – especially his involvement in Ridley Scott's "Alien," which won him an Academy Award. Brief clips of archival footage do make their way into the picture, but not frequently enough to assemble a comprehensive biography. This documentary is much more of a retrospective, detailed by observations of Giger during his final days at his massive estate.From his shelf of real human skulls (something of a defiance of death) to his personal garden of demonic sculptures (featuring a fully functioning, miniature train) – which is very much like journeying through a prenatal nightmare realm – Giger's dwelling is a labyrinthine estate full of frightful nooks and crannies for the artist to wander through (and to stash away unseen early treasures, unearthed for the first time in this movie). His artwork is instantly recognizable, filled with utterly haunting depictions of bony, mutated flesh, torturously mixed with mechanical components – human anatomy fused with uncanny machinery, dubbed "biomechanoids." And it litters the walls, the floors, the furniture, and even the bathtub.The film does stress that he's very much a normal guy, despite his paintings and sculptures suggesting quite the opposite. In the end, though this documentary shows some engaging moments with the artist during his last days, it's less informative than observational – and, as a result, more fleeting than memorable. H.R. Giger's art is mesmerizingly sensational, but this somewhat plodding, generally unenthusiastic, routinely monotonic production just doesn't do his monumental accomplishments cinematic justice.