Last night a friend and I saw the film Sankara at the Chicago International Film Festival. I thought the description of the film opened up a lot of possibilities for intrigue and moral conflict. Especially a monk tempted by the pleasures of the flesh while restoring a Buddhist morality tale in a mural about the self destruction inherent in the ephemera of sensuality. It started off as you'd expect, and then became really sensual. The sound really highlighted the tactile senses through the pouring a water (a symbol of life, love, and regeneration), the sound of fingers on a rough wall, or an extreme close up of sweat on skin. I thought they could have thrown some food for the smell and some music, too, but in the beginning I had a lot of hope that we would see something rich and strange. Unfortunately, the movie went no further in sensuality, conflict, or in any direction at all. There was no plot and no intrigue.
For conflict to exist in some kind of interpersonal intrigue there must be dialog. No conversation took place in this film and no relationships unfolded; people just spoke off camera or said their piece to lecture us all. The lack of movement kept on and on and on and I got really bored. I did not hate this movie, but I wish I had instead taken a chance on a different film. Give this one a miss and try another one.
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