3 out of 5

Directed by: Panos Cosmatos

Let’s first note that director Panos is the son of George P., helmer of Rambo II.  Now un-note it, as it doesn’t matter at all except for trivia’s sake, or depending on your combined opinion of that flick and this flick, you can begin your own review with some comparison comment, though I know you’re all film trivia savvy already and didn’t need my review to point out this connection (but it’s okay if you did, I don’t judge you (…now, as I’ve already judged you minutes ago, as you began hunting for “Rambo comparisons for ‘Beyond the Black Rainbow'” via Google, and that’s a really particular search phrase that I have trackers watching, as it’s a fine marker of people whom should be judged (…positively or negatively, though, I haven’t decided.  So, y’know, to be continued.).).).  (I note now, and have probably noted before, that I ramble when I have trouble starting a review.)

You will know within the first few minutes – after an introductory video – whether or not you’ll have the patience for ‘Beyond the Black Rainbow.’  But even with that established, there will be a couple more hurdles that will determine how the movie works for you.  We open on a cropped, introductory sequence for something called ‘Arboria,’ which we understand to be something vaguely New Age-y that we’re invited to join to better connect with our spirituality.  Cosmatos’ pitch perfect take on the 60s vibe in this video prevents it from sidling into something comedic; the deliberately slow pacing and repeated mantras add to that flavor, that this is more than just set dressing and should be taken as an actual setup for what’s to come.  The aspect ratio widens; it is 1983, we assume we are in Arboria, watching someone in charge – Dr. Barry Nyle (Michael Rogers, playing the role with weighty creepiness and smarm) – observe and question an assumed teen patient, Elena (Eva Allan).  The bright, warm / cold solid colors and angled design and the film’s preference for long, still shots with a swirling key-heavy psychedelic score from Sinoia Caves will call to mind Kubrick, but as the film settles into the hour mark, maintaining its dreamy pacing, whispered dialogue and abstracted plot, it moves outside of the realm of tribute to become its own nightmarish version of, perhaps, a forgotten film.  Your tolerance to make it this far will be determined whether or not you’re awake fifteen minutes in.  Questions will start to stack up, as to whether or not Elena has psychic powers, how Nyle may be controlling those with some glowing triangle, what these Sentionaut guards are, why Barry is so interested in Elena, and etcetera and etcetera.  So let’s say you’re all in.  You love the dreary pacing, and you love surrealist film.  At that hour mark, Panos offers up some answers via a flashback to the 60s… and from here on out, the film might turn into a horror movie.  For me, the tweak to this formula sky-rocketed the film into awesome, and in general, if you’ve swallowed the weirdness up to this point, it’ll probably have the same effect.  But in doing so, Cosmatos then seems to want to shuffle through various 80s movie tropes, and a lot of that cold dread thats been building for the first half drains out.  The conclusion isn’t lacking in sense or against the themes of the film, but it no longer feels as… calculatedly constrictive as the opening portion, giving ‘Beyond,’ overall, an uneven feeling.  On the one hand, the dedication to the look and design is astounding.  On the other hand, the first half is non-film and the second half is film, and it sort of clashes when put together.  Either way: it is an experience, and that can be one of the most rewarding aspects of movie-viewing.