Image: Heart of a Dog courtesy of Melbourne International Film Festival.
Laurie Anderson’s Heart of a Dog approaches loss like a series of waves that keep encroaching upon the shore. Just as one laps gently along the coastline, the next crashes ferociously against the sand; either way, irrespective of their apparent force, the watery onslaught just keeps coming. As the avant-garde artist explores her experiences with mortality and grief – and the way her life, like all lives, has been shaped by both – she stresses this similarity not with words, but with form. Her seventh directorial credit (and first feature since 1986 concert movie Home Of The Brave) wades through selective slivers of minutiae from her existence to date; floating into a seemingly serene but just as frequently shifting space, and then waits for the corresponding emotions to swell.
Such slices of stories ostensibly focus on a rat terrier by the name of Lolabelle, who, like many pets in the care of loving owners, was one of Anderson’s most treasured companions. The titular pooch is an inescapable presence in the part documentary, part cine-essay that springs in tribute to its time on earth; however as Anderson reflects upon the cute creature that died in 2011, other subjects flit through the filmmaker’s mind. Delving into her childhood, dissecting her bond with her mother, examining the way her brain fragments her recollections and places importance on certain events, opining about living in New York after 9/11, and attempting to grasp the concept of the afterlife all provide further bubbles of content. Those with knowledge of Anderson’s marriage to the late musician Lou Reed, to whom the feature is dedicated, will be unable to view the movie without also pondering his passing and its influence.
While meditating on one’s memories and musings might seem easy, Anderson’s film proves anything but. Indeed, Heart of a Dog is a piece of personal filmmaking of the rarest kind: a stream-of-consciousness effort. Though unleashing an unfettered torrent of thoughts and feelings is more commonly associated with written rather than audio-visual art, as Anderson’s compilation of everything from photographs and home videos to hand-drawn animated clips and footage captured from a canine’s point-of-view washes over the audience, it’s impossible to perceive the writer/director relating her tale in any other fashion. Her feature is grounded in sensations and sentiments rather than traditional storytelling, as told in the only manner that could do it justice.
Accordingly, Heart of a Dog‘s collage of sound and vision isn’t difficult to consume – but ensuring that always remains the case is clearly far from a simple task on the filmmaker and her technical team’s part. Assembling such a wealth of material into a sprawling yet cohesive whole, the movie is a carefully constructed piece that relies upon the editing prowess of Melody London (Exposed) and Katherine Nolfi (Upstate) as much as Anderson’s own inimitable way of looking at her experiences. And yet, as it playfully bobs and weaves through heartfelt sketches and sweetly narrated remembrances, it never feels anything less than organic and authentic. There’s no mistaking the labours required to truly take viewers into the mindset of its central figure; there’s no mistaking the ease with which the finished product unravels, either.
Of course, much of the astounding impact of the film stems from a common contrast: that of intimate details and universal truths. Anderson doesn’t ever appear to be overtly reaching for the latter, but serves them up regardless as a result of her relatable contemplations. The accessible tone – often light-hearted even discussing the subject of death, and just as often breezy despite the purposefully poetic nature of the feature’s language – assists, as does the roaming structure that also echoes through her corresponding musical compositions. Heart of a Dog isn’t an exercise in examining life and loss to look for answers; it’s the filmic equivalent of channelling impermanence into a permanent state, much like the fleeting waves feed into the unceasing ocean. An ode filled with affection and artistry, it’s a lurching, lyrical expression of everything that makes existence what it is.
Rating: 4.5 stars out of 5
Heart of a Dog
Director: Laurie Anderson
France | USA, 2015, 75 mins
Revelation Perth International Film Festival
7–17 July 2016
Queensland Film Festival
15–24 July 2016
Melbourne International Film Festival
28 July – 14 August 2016
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