Begotten

Definitely one of the most bizarre pieces of moviemaking you will ever see. You need to sit through "Eraserhead," "Tetsuo:The Iron Man," and the like to have at least some preparation for this one. Not that I am about to claim that I understand what the film's intentions are. If it wasn't for the brief summary on the tape's cover, then I would be completely at loss, and even that wasn't really much help. Then again, as some people below have argued, it just may be some self-indulging mumbo-jumbo, so there might not be any need to stress over the meaning of it. In any case, because people's opinions on this movie are completely bipolar, I simply concluded that it can be looked at as, so to say, "raw matter" or "raw substance" (whichever you prefer), and one should just make out of it what he can, using his/her own perspective, experiences, etc. In other words, it's all very subjective. Personally, I can't say that I got something intellectually fulfilling out of it. I enjoyed the bleakness and weirdness of it all, though we all know how wearisome these things can become. So basically, give it a try if you are into all things out of this world, but you should probably keep you expectations reserved.

This is not a casual movie-going experience; its unnerving, dark, and filled with upsetting imagery. This film has a sort of evil, misanthropic feel to it that's difficult to explain succinctly. For more daring viewers, though, E. Elias Merhige's "Begotten" offers a unique and somewhat terrifying experience that is not easily forgotten. The storyline, if you can call it that, plays out in three loose acts, each personified by the brutalization and unfortunate death of the "character," who are themselves representative of an axiom and/or figurehead in any number of Judo Christean and Pagan religions. Ostensibly, the three defining characters are credited as "God Killing Himself," "Son of Earth," and "Mother Earth," with the remaining, nameless characters credited as "Theatre of Material," which apparently was Merhige's production company. The overall look of the film harks strongly of early silent films, with loose blobs of shadow predominating and copious simulated scratches and aging present in nearly every frame. Its very cool to witness the obvious hard work that went into creating such a look. The imagery itself, though, is quite brutal and strong enough to ward off nearly all of the mainstream. If you like Black Metal, Black Ambient/Industrial, or other dark and uncompromising art, though, you should really dig this movie. Its a terrific, memorable nightmare and arguably a strange sort of milestone. in the realm of avante-gard film. Watch this one with ALL the lights out... ---|--- Reviews by Flak Magnet

A considerably overrated bit of avant-garde horror, this curiosity utilizes a Joseph Campbellian religious/mythic archetype as its only form of cohesion. Some say it's shocking, but fifteen minutes into it, that shock will turn into boredom. Essentially, this is 78 minutes of an amateur actor trying his best to seizure convincingly.

I usually love bizarre, experimental, non-linear films. Not this time. This is a boring one, filled with very dull, repetitive images. Nothing goes on for on and on and on, and many times, due to the lighting effects, the editing, the grainy out-of-focus picture, and the blending of white with light and black with dark, you wonder if there is any image at all on the screen or if you are getting a bad reception. Oh yeah, and there are constant shots of the sun going up, and down, and up, and down... When the movie ended, my reaction was not of horror, or repulsion, or awe, but of amazement, as I wondered "THAT was IT?".

The reason why people think that this crap being passed great art is the work of a genius is the presentation of the credits. The guy that looked like Leatherface who was repeatedly cutting what is supposed to be an intestine is credited as God, and other characters as Mother Nature and etc. Why, how easy to create art! Now we can credit Elizabeth Berkeley's character in "Showgirls" as "God stripping several times and constantly acting stupidly in Las Vegas with Elvis look-alikes and screwing Kyle MacLaughlan" and officially declare it a work of art!...

I saw 'Begotten' last night, and I'm of two minds on the film.

On one hand, I appreciate it for being the total invert of a Michael Bay film. No dialogue, extremely stylized grainy B&W photography, some of the most genuinely horrific imagery ever set to film, and a very compelling use of sound (which nobody else seems to have really picked up on yet). It's a reflection on a theme, and it dares go where most filmmakers do not not only in terms of images, but of production and concept. It's a movie that most people don't understand, and if you read through these comments you'll find a lot of people whose lack of ability to figure this film out results in them shrieking about 'pretentiousness' with the fervor of a gibbon rattling the bars of its cage at feeding time. It genuinely shocked and disturbed me, and the last time a film managed to do that was a while ago.

On the other, this is a thirty-minute short that sprawls out to over an hour and a half. I understand that there might be artistic merit in using repetition and monolithic pacing as a bludgeon, but in this case it just doesn't help everything hang together. Imagine being approached by a ragged man on the street who grabys you by the shoulders and says something that completely confounds the core of your being... but then, instead of leaving your shattered and gibbering in his wake, he just keeps talking and talking and talking. By the end of the movie, I found myself glancing at my watch now and again.

This is not entertainment, people. This is disentertainment. This is how you deprogram people who just watched "Glitter." If you watch movies to be entertained, this will frustrate, confound, and possibly anger you. You don't approach 'Begotten' like a chocolate cake you want to eat because it tastes good. You approach it like something on the menu you have never heard of before, something you see furtive glances of through the kitchen door, something that's dark and glistens and twitches on its platter; something you order not because it will taste good, but because you just have to know what it's like.