“Koyaanisqatsi” is not a film in the traditional sense. There is no discernable plot besides the eruption of modern times across natural landscapes. It is an artwork created to provoke questions and answers both, from the viewer. Perhaps it is because of the class in which this film was assigned but the main message I perceived was one that championed nature and sustainability over technology and excess.
Koyaanisqatsi is a Hopi Indian word meaning a life out of balance. As the film develops koyaanisqatsi is featured as the opposite of sustainability. The film begins with images of nature, shifts to the destruction and use of the original Earth, and finally showcases the manmade environment that replaces what was once there, for better or for worse.
The origin of the word koyaansqatsi is particularly important in regards to this theme. Native Americans have always been very respectful of nature, making sure to use all that it has to offer efficiently and sparingly. For example, when they hunt they use every part of the animal they absolutely needed to kill. This origin is explored early in the film as the camera glides over Lake Powell, home to the Hopi tribe. The Hopi Indians used this lake and the red sand rocks for shelter, living in small nooks they carved. The canyons in the lake served as buildings and the animals in the area were food and clothing. This harmony of mankind with nature, however, is unfortunately short-lived.
Nature is processed and regurgitated. The red rock formations are now skyscrapers. Animals are anonymously slaughtered and pumped out of machines as frankfurters. The areal views are now of cars zipping along chaotic, intertwining highways. From up close, the movement of cars seems very ordered, confined by the white paint and speed limits. However, from a more removed vantage point, there is chaos. The multiple roads and weaving cars become apparent. This begins to hint at a sinister, hidden element of human organization. At first it seems that humans are investing energy to order nature, decreasing the entropy of the universe, bringing balance and organization to a chaotic natural world. After all, an assembly line takes effort and lead to products that are combinations of many parts. However, there is a tendency towards entropy that is actually accelerated by human activity. “Koyaansqatsi” features footage of industrial parts being manufactured where flames erupt off of newly smelted metal. Buildings are demolished to make room for new buildings that will be demolished for yet newer ones and so on and so forth. When the film shows parking lots full of identical cars, perfectly lined up, there is a focus on all the different colors scattered randomly. This scene quickly fades to reveal a line of tanks preparing for war. Though the tanks are similarly manufactured they hold so much potential for destruction and disorder. Perhaps, then, the mechanization of nature is not the story of a beast being tamed by man. “Koyaanisqatsi” begins to suggest that mankind is a virus, spreading over a healthy planet, and making it sick.
One of the major consequences of this shift from original nature to the man made replacement is captured in the acceleration of tempo in the footage and music. In stark contrast to the opening of the film, with its droning cry “Koyaanisqatsi” and slowly panning camera, the cinematography is now in fast forward and the music is a cacophony of staccatos on the violin and cello. This faster pace is representative of the increased rate at which humans use nature in the infrastructure of modern times. The metallic copy of the natural world operates in larger quantities and at higher speeds. Here, Koyaanisqatsi is observable. There is an imbalance between the rate at which the Earth can provide and the rate at which humans consume.
The fast-forwarded footage has another effect that accentuates the imbalance. The film shows people shopping, eating, driving, and taking escalators, all at high speed. The way these people tumble through the world, making their way through narrow areas, is reminiscent of flowing blood cells. This suggests that the Earth is a living organism that relies on its cells to circulate and, as biology dictates, use a minimal amount of energy. The main point is that koyaansqatsi, a life out of balance, paints a picture of a sick planet whose cells are leeches, tainted by the spreading virus of modern times. The planet is no longer in balance with the Earth’s capacity to provide.
“Koyaanisqatsi” proceeds to pervert the notion of the Earth as a living organism into an image of the Earth as a machine. The camera floats around a city peeking into windows and watching car lights streak across the roads at night. Suddenly, the skyline appears to be a motherboard of a computer. Each building looks like a microchip. The people inside, flickering their light switches on and off, are electrons zipping along the processor. The music becomes dark at this time, highlighting the tragedy of mechanization. At this point, the humans have successfully converted the organic, natural, living Earth into a machine.
There is actually a moment in which “Koyaanisqatsi” appears to praise human achievement through music. Once the cityscape emerges the music sounds like the background track of a show like “Modern Marvels” or “How it’s Made” or the overture to some fantastical movie. The cascading flutes and airy strings back up an angelic quire as the camera zooms around capturing the tumult of the urban environment.
However, the hustle and bustle of modern times starts to reveal images of excess. Soon the film is saturated with frames of people eating and shopping endlessly. “Koyaanisqatsi” questions if the golden era that mankind imagines for itself is substantiated. It asks why we have replaced nature with a metallic version sustained by the very nature we uprooted. There is a beautiful shot of steely glass windows perfectly reflecting drifting clouds that directly juxtaposes these two worlds against each other. The angelic voices, now tooting for ten minutes, appear more haunting than glorifying. The film questions the assertion that technological advancement and expansion is inherently good. It shows that the apparent positive is really unnecessary excess and contends that using the planet at the rate that modern times calls for is unsustainable.
The film mocks this way of life by ridiculing the human desire for excess. In one scene, assembly lines spew out thousands of frankfurters. In the scene immediately following this one, people exit escalators in huge numbers, like hot dogs in a factory. In fact, “Koyaanisqatsi” seems to find fault in technological advancement and human proliferation in general. The final scene, of a rocket taking off into space and crumbling in the air, summarizes this feeling well. The rocket represents the failed attempt of mankind to create a beautiful but artificial world that feeds off of nature. This attempt leads to koyaanisqatsi. Human ambition and meddling throw life out of balance.
I do not agree with this message. Human involvement has definitely contributed to koyaanisqatsi but this does not mean technological advancement and some degree of luxury is totally incompatible with nature. Though humans should not remake the world using nature as fuel, they do not necessarily have to leave it in its raw form. There are sustainable ways of creating a balanced planet. Solar energy and green engineering are perfect examples of human activity that can actually enhance the planet and reinforce the balance. The denouement of “Koyaanisqatsi” does show images of introspective and remorseful humans. The pilot, the factory worker, and the commuters all seem cognizant of the state of their world. To me, this is a sign that change is possible and imminent.
