Blue

Not sure I could have made much of it without knowing at least a little backstory, and even then, it was somewhat hard to get a handle on at times. It is just 75 minutes of a blue screen, but the audio is surprisingly engaging, and there is some narrative to be found within it.

There's a good deal of spoken word, often poetic, and sometimes quite moving. Some of the snippets of music used here are also fantastic- not sure if they were sampled and if so where from, but they added a lot.

Despite the short length, had put off watching this for a while because I wasn't sure I was ever in the right mood for something this different and challenging. Even tonight, it wasn't the perfect movie for this very day, but at least now I'll know what to expect, and can maybe return to it on a day when I'm feeling like I could connect to it more.

But for the parts that did get to me, and the fact that it was an experiment that was mostly pulled off very well, a good deal of credit must be given.

Many people complained about the triteness or cliche nature of the device of using an all-blue screen for the seventy-some odd minutes of this film. I'd guess that most of these people never saw the film on the big screen.

If you did see this on a big screen, however, you were sure to notice the tricks your eyes played on you. Jarman, directing this film as he lost his eyesight (and what could be worse for a director?), last saw the color blue. As you watch the film, your eyes become saturated with the color blue, and begin to try and compensate for the overstimulation, shifting to oranges, showing illusionary shapes in the blank field of the screen, and ultimately betraying you. What better allegory for the loss of one's vision, especially when it means everything to you?

Derek Jarman's "Blue" is amazing. the blue screen amplifies the sad and vivid sound-track. at times fast, at times slow. Jarman's dark sense of humor peaks out every now and then. very hard to watch the whole movie with out a break. a great sound-track for a long drive in the car.

Jarman's masterpiece was always going to attract a lazy criticism from the mainstream mindset: pretentious, trendy, self-indulgent etc.

But to dismiss it out of hand as no better than a first year art student's project is to fail to appreciate the rich narrative.

The coldness of the blue focusses the mind on what Jarman has to tell us, perhaps far better than any other colour would've done. We cannot help but listen, and take in one very gifted man's grim yet positive perspective on gay life, and a slow death through AIDS.

Brian Eno's musical score is stark and haunting, with passages of female vocal harmony that are strongly influenced by contempory sacred music from Eastern Europe.

Watch this film with an open mind: Force yourself to keep staring into the blue yonder, and it will empower you with a new level of vision and perspective.

Derek Jarman's final work is perhaps his most unusual. The visuals are nothing but a solid screen of bright blue. The soundtrack is a montage of sound effects, voice overs, and music. The dialogue is Derek Jarman's coming to terms with himself, and his terminal illness.

Some will find the whole affair a pretentious bore. Others will find it a moving farewell from a groundbreaking British film-maker who was completely blind by the time the film was completed. He broke the rules, especially with this film, and it's probably how he wanted to be remembered.