Killer of Sheep Movie Review (1977)
Wow, can I just start off by saying the word “classic”? A lot of us use the term loosely when referring to movies or albums, but Charles Burnett’s “Killer of Sheep” is a classic in the true sense of the word. Let me back up a little and give you the definition of “classic.”
Classic- serving as a standard of excellence: of recognized value; historically memorable
Following up with the “classic” notion, I should add that this film is considered such a landmark in African-American cinema as well as America independent cinema that it was one of the first 50 culturally significant films chosen for preservation in the Library of Congress by the National Film Registry. In addition to this honor, who would have guessed, while attending UCLA’s film school, Burnett filmed “Killer of Sheep” on the weekends and served as the director, writer, editor, cameraman, and producer; he had a shoestring budget of $10,000 and used an amateur cast of friends and family.
“Killer of Sheep,” less plot-driven, more episodic, examines life in the LA ghetto of Watts during the mid-70’s; a portrait of the working poor, living from paycheck to paycheck and trying to make ends meet. The film, arguably called a “documentary,” is seen through the eyes of Stan (Henry Gayle Sanders), the film’s exhausted protagonist who slaves daily in a slaughterhouse, haunted by sleepless nights. We follow him as he deals with a malaise and an existential despair that refrains any pleasurable emotions and takes him to a space where his wife cannot reach him. Stan is confronted daily with the allure of violence, poverty, and misbehaving children. For instance, Stan is visited by two of his friends who want his help conspiring a criminal plan, as his wife advises him against dealings with such murderous men. We also witness the complications of negotiating the purchase of a car engine and how that came to an unlucky end. While these daily incidents add up to an illustration of futility, there are few but far between, occasions filled with splendor and contentment that ensures and adds meaning to life; Stan and his wife slow dance in their living room to Dinah Washington’s “This Bitter Earth.”
What I really love about this film is the gritty and raw cinematography Burnett provides, along with its undying sensitivity to mood and natural realism. He captures the action in a series of transcendent, tight close-ups, spewing his genuine artistic vision, creating a powerful poetic cinema as only he could. I am also in awe of the musical component, which includes artists such as Dinah Washington, Etta James, Little Walter, Elmore James, Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup and Earth, Wind, and Fire. Although Burnett’s score choices express the plight of his characters, they also convey the idea that life in Watts is “not so bad” after all; certain perseverance is offered.
Classic- serving as a standard of excellence: of recognized value; historically memorable
Following up with the “classic” notion, I should add that this film is considered such a landmark in African-American cinema as well as America independent cinema that it was one of the first 50 culturally significant films chosen for preservation in the Library of Congress by the National Film Registry. In addition to this honor, who would have guessed, while attending UCLA’s film school, Burnett filmed “Killer of Sheep” on the weekends and served as the director, writer, editor, cameraman, and producer; he had a shoestring budget of $10,000 and used an amateur cast of friends and family.
“Killer of Sheep,” less plot-driven, more episodic, examines life in the LA ghetto of Watts during the mid-70’s; a portrait of the working poor, living from paycheck to paycheck and trying to make ends meet. The film, arguably called a “documentary,” is seen through the eyes of Stan (Henry Gayle Sanders), the film’s exhausted protagonist who slaves daily in a slaughterhouse, haunted by sleepless nights. We follow him as he deals with a malaise and an existential despair that refrains any pleasurable emotions and takes him to a space where his wife cannot reach him. Stan is confronted daily with the allure of violence, poverty, and misbehaving children. For instance, Stan is visited by two of his friends who want his help conspiring a criminal plan, as his wife advises him against dealings with such murderous men. We also witness the complications of negotiating the purchase of a car engine and how that came to an unlucky end. While these daily incidents add up to an illustration of futility, there are few but far between, occasions filled with splendor and contentment that ensures and adds meaning to life; Stan and his wife slow dance in their living room to Dinah Washington’s “This Bitter Earth.”
What I really love about this film is the gritty and raw cinematography Burnett provides, along with its undying sensitivity to mood and natural realism. He captures the action in a series of transcendent, tight close-ups, spewing his genuine artistic vision, creating a powerful poetic cinema as only he could. I am also in awe of the musical component, which includes artists such as Dinah Washington, Etta James, Little Walter, Elmore James, Arthur “Big Boy” Crudup and Earth, Wind, and Fire. Although Burnett’s score choices express the plight of his characters, they also convey the idea that life in Watts is “not so bad” after all; certain perseverance is offered.
I want to end by saying, for all of you avid movie watchers and lovers, this movie is both a must-see and a must-have; if you have Netflix it is mandatory that you add it to your queue. It’s definitely a movie to have if you are a film student or looking to get into film directing.
GRADE: A+

3 comments:
You had me at "WOW". I am a movie lover and this seems interesting to say the lest.
now i wany to see this movie
I think both of you guys should check it out, especially if you are an avid movie watcher!
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