Different people, different walks. I thought that was what the point of the "Walking" film was going to be. But then I watched it. And then I came home and watched it again. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something about this film that made me think
I think that there is little doubt in my mind that this film works as art. It decontextualizes almost absolutely-- figures in dark, water-color shadows, some of which are merely lumped masses on legs, with only the silhouette of the whole person being entirely distinguishable. Flashing colors and flowing lines distinguish the moving figures from the stationary-- the calm from the vibrant. Even when faces and frames are distinguishable, they are not nearly as expressive as the figures' swaying limbs as the walk, run, and cartwheel in and out of view.
I also think that this film accomplishes the defamiliarization of walking in general. In real life, I would think that when approached by a walking person that an individual's eye would tend to gravitate toward the face and torso of the person. In the movie, however, the lines and shadows operated as such as to draw the line of sight (literally) toward the legs and feet which, while significant in the act of walking, are generally overlooked. That would probably be what I liked most about the film-- the focus defamiliarized figures and people by changing the perspective.
I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this film as a whole. I do believe that live-action and animated films are an art form, but whether or not I'd consider this piece as entirely significant (like, say, significant enough to write 3 to 5 pages on, for example) is still up in the air. I think if it had gone a little farther to decontextualize the elements of walking from the human frame as a whole, I may have been more moved. But still, this film keeps me thinking. Which I think furthers the argument for calling it art.
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