Review: ‘On an Unknown Beach’

Similar to a degree to Godard’s 1968 film One Plus One aka Sympathy for the Devil in that, instead of a distinct storyline, there are multiple threads that are linked thematically although not narratively connected. The theme here is one of exploration and discovery. Rather than Godard’s Rolling Stones, black revolutionaries and porn store shop assistants we have Bruce Russell of the noise band Dead C. recording an album, the poet David Hornblow going through experimental hypnotherapy and oceanographer Di Tracey exploring the damage wrought to New Zealand’s sea beds from fishing trawlers.
The beautifully-shot film moves along with an abstract pulse, scenes changing from one viewpoint to another according to the film’s inner aesthetic and thematic demands. Bruce is largely silent for the first third of the film, wandering the ruins of Christchurch like a free noise Mr. Bean, banging on a drum and cymbal, blowing on a horn, hitting some rusting corrugated iron and recording the results on an antiquated ¼ inch reel to reel tape loop. David’s scenes are more raw and troubling: depicting his struggles with his disappointment with himself and others, as well as his concerns over his relationships with his ex-partner and children. The third narrative nicely contrasts with the others with shots of ocean floor exploration, radar, waves and mysterious oceanic science oration.
All three narrations weave around each other – sometimes dream-like, sometimes solidly in reality. They each at some point each offer a reward of some kind with these rewards varying from revelations and epiphanies to humour and also to a kind of horror when we learn what is really happening under the waves.
‘On an Unknown Beach’ Movie Times