The Clock

The Clock is a bold and immersive experimental film that pushes the boundaries of narrative structure and time-based cinema. By combining thousands of clips from movies, television shows, and documentaries, the film creates a 24-hour visual journey, continuously referencing the passage of time, moments of human connection, and existential reflections on mortality. While its innovative approach to editing and montage is impressive, the film's very concept can feel repetitive and somewhat exhausting for viewers not accustomed to such avant-garde methods.

The lack of a traditional storyline or character development may also alienate those who seek a conventional narrative structure. However, for cinephiles or those with a deep appreciation for film history, The Clock serves as a fascinating tapestry of cinematic moments that reflect our collective experience with time, clocks, and the human condition.

Though not a film for everyone, it offers a unique experience for viewers who are willing to embrace its experimental nature and philosophical undertones. Ultimately, The Clock stands as an ambitious work that showcases the power of montage and its potential for transforming the way we engage with the concept of time on screen.

If you get the chance to see any of this take it. I saw it when It was at the Musée d'arts contemporain in Montreal. I did not see all 24 hours, but I did sit in that room a lot longer than I expected (like, 2 hours!) a couple of times.

The clips are so well chosen and linked together. Many sequences from the same films are used and I found myself drawn into several stories at once.

I really can't otherwise explain it. Art film really isn't my thing, but this captivated me. Every so often I look up where the exhibit is now and wonder if I could realistically get there to see it.

It's worth recording that Christian Marclay's masterpiece, first seen at the White Cube in London in 2010, returned to the UK capital in September 2018, this time at the renowned Tate Modern gallery, where it will run until January 2019, on occasion for its allotted 24 hours. We dipped into the private view from 19.15 to 21.15 and intend to return several times in order to view the entire cycle. The content already has been described here but this review was written specifically to confirm that it's mesmerising. Part of the fun is in identifying the unidentified clips - thousands of them - but one is mostly in awe of the amount of research involved in piecing together a visual record of every minute that passes during 24 hours. (Apparently the early hours of the morning were hardest to locate). Marclay took 3 (not 2) years to piece everything together and did so with a team of researchers who trawled through videos. They're all credited at the Tate. The film is of such huge significance because no one who experiences it will ever again see in a film a cut-away of a clock or a watch without thinking, "I wonder if he used that one?" Go to see this film whenever you get the opportunity. For all manner of reasons it will never be available for home viewing.

Is there anyone who has seen this who hasn't been astounded at its brilliance? Mesmerising is the first adjective on most people's lips, and by all accounts it seems that nobody can bring themselves to get up and terminate or interfere with this 24-hour loop experience, except under the duress of necessities such as work and home commitments, hunger, thirst and the need for sleep and toilet pit stops.

It is interesting that after two years this major "film work" should still only have a single review to date on IMDb, and that this second review should like the first be from Australia! I managed to see it over 24hours at a 55-hour opening marathon 17-19/5/12 held (partly to mark World Museums Day) by the Museum of Contemporary Art (MCA) in Sydney's Circular Quay, opposite the Opera House. Get the feeling yet that it has hitherto been seen as a postmodern art "installation",and more akin to art collage than a real landmark of the moving image? It is in fact a profound experience for passionate film lovers, and I am reminded of the splendid end to "Cinema Paradiso", when the reel of parish priest-censured kisses is finally run; "Clock" is about as moving an homage to motion film, with the thousands of snippets taken from at least many hundreds of films serving as a strange "whole life flashing before your eyes" experience for the ardent film lover. So many of the most famous, memorable and important films are represented, interspersed with hundreds more of less known and significant ones; early 1900s film segments mixing with 21st century, B/W with colour, drama with comedy; European with US and Asian; and a roll call of most of the greatest film stars in the last 100 years rubbing shoulders with obscure actors.

This connection with viewers is heightened by the actual "raison d'etre" of "Clock", namely the minute by minute correlation of our universal day with time-stamped scenes in movies, and this aspect of it certainly contributes greatly to its mesmerizing quality and our inability to want to get up and leave - what will happen next in our day? "Clock" is thereby a work of art - or "installation" if you will (finally one that deserves profound respect!) - that deeply relates to all viewers, even without its own footage or storyline or actors. It remarkably finds a connection to our experiences and emotions without even targeting a demographic or knowing who we are in the audience. No doubt that is the hallmark of great art, why this film seems relatively unknown within IMDb - and why it yet deserves admiration here.

A film equally worthy of Museums of Contemporary Art and of fine cinemateques. Well done Christian Marclay and thank you MCA Sydney!

I blundered into this at the Tate Modern a couple of months ago and am still stunned by what I saw. It is a hypnotic immersion in cinema , yet it is also a functional timepiece. I await its return to the US, so I can see the 18 hours I missed. Read about it on Wikipedia. Put it on your bucket list and see it, if you are lucky enough.