London

During the year 1992, in which this beautiful documentary takes place, I lived in London and became acquainted not only with the kitschy tourist attractions but also with the city which true Londoners know: the little secrets found in back alleys, unknown museums, and interesting buildings. This movie is a sort of homage to that side of the city, and is quite well done. To me, seeing it a year after coming back to the states, it exactly embodied the spirit of that hidden London. Best watched in a decrepit theater on a crackling film reel.

This documentary offers an unconventional perspective on a major British city, focusing specifically on events from a particular year. While its poetic, essayistic style and intellectual rigor offer a compelling view of urban life, some might find the film's distinctively British references and nuances challenging to fully appreciate if they're not native to the UK. For instance, the voiceover provides a nuanced interpretation of the city's complexities and political landscape, but it might lean too heavily on British historical and literary contexts for an international audience to grasp fully. Despite its strengths, this could be viewed as a weak point for viewers unfamiliar with British culture and history. Overall, the film invites deeper engagement, serving not merely as a factual account but as a contemplative portrayal that captures the essence and contradictions of city life.

This is the first of the two travelogues of our anonymous commentator and his companion Robinson, the second one being the awesome Robinson in Space.

Essentially this is a travelogue of London in 1992. It concentrates on locations and issues within London precious to the commentator, and also on the political and social events of the time. The film is shot mostly as stills of the locations visited, and is very well observed. One sequence which lingers for me is the film of the aftermath of the IRA bombs in the City of London at that time, which are eerily beautiful.

The election of 1992 is recorded and commented upon, and the monarchy dont escape unscathed. The writer is very very obviously a socialist, and the commentary is heavily 'Old Labour', but is in turns informative, witty, and thought provoking.

It attempts some major social points, but is preaching to the converted somewhat, this is definitely for the Art House Crowd - You would never see this at a Multiplex. However, is good to see it on film

I gave this 8/10, but Robinson in Space got 10. If you get the chance to see either, do, opportunities are few and far between, and it's made in a very unusual and exiting style.

Filmed during the election year of 1992, this poignant film presents a very personal, politicised portrait of London as John Major replaces Margaret Thatcher and all seemingly tilts further down into depressing times. If the Conservative government are paralysed with fear and doubt, the IRA certainly are not and add to London's woes on a more frequent basis than I remember. Watching this downbeat, socialist view of London some 15 years after it was shot makes one so aware of just how much has changed for the better. The streets are brighter, people spend more time on them, transport has improved, tourism has roared and confidence and success have replaced the tired old dormitory like city. Ironically, given the tone of this film, it is a little bit of the Labour party, quite a lot of Ken Livingstone, as London Mayor but a whole lot of capitalism at work that has rejuvenated this great city.

Well, I don't have anything to say about this film that's as intelligent as Margarita Nikolaevna's comments, which you should read.

A whole interconnected body of work appeared at the end of the twentieth century which seemed to want to deal with 'the problem of London'--with the fact that, while London had been the most modern city on the planet for a terrible length of time, it had never arrived at any conscousness of the nature of its own modernity. I'll name some of these works---Iain Sinclair's _Lights out for the Territory_, Allan Moore's masterpiece, _From Hell_ (which this film understands, I think, much more deeply than the Hughes Brothers'), the pics of Mark Atkins, Peter Ackroyd's _Hawksmoor_, Michael Moorcock's _King of the City_, the job Bill Drummond did on the M25---but Patrick Keiller's film is the most magnificently negative and observant of all of these. Of course it enters into a dialogue with Benjamin's marvelous theorising about how Paris was the Capital of the 19th Century, but if you haven't seen it you should be warned that there's a real humour and humanity here which we're accustomed not to find in serious documentary: eg. the great joke of the mysterious guy in the shopping-centre reading Benjamin.... Oh, yeah, now I wait in the Ikea caff, piling meatball upon meatball, and waiting for the fullfilment and suppression of flat-pack...