Amazingly, the two decades in between projects did little to extinguish the flame that Alejandro Jodorowsky still has for being one of film's most outrageous image makers, as The Dance of Reality so capably demonstrates. Jodorowsky takes on the ambitious effort to re-imagine a less traumatic version of his childhood in his hometown of Tocopilla, Chile, and makes the risky gambit of casting himself as, well, himself, guiding his younger incarnation through the trials and tribulations of his upbringing, now filtered through Jodorowsky's incomparable imagination. As always, Jodorowsky throws enough ideas at you that could be the springboard of a dozen other films, and being in his 80s is no apparent obstacle in that pursuit, as if he was afraid that it would be another 20 years before he'd get the chance to show them off, to say nothing of the existing gap. Despite the more straightforward plotting, he nevertheless fills the screen with unforgettable imagery for all of its running time, and while it's a tad bit more restrained than, say, The Holy Mountain, it's the only film in recent memory that I know of that features two graphic urination scenes and wasn't porn, and that's only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Being just over two hours long does run into the problem that's made it difficult for many to get into the man's films, as over two hours of such strong images can feel like a drag before very long. It wouldn't be so bad if the story didn't feel a little unfocused, as only the first third of the film deals with the young Alejandro before giving most of the rest of the film to his father Jaime (frequent Jodorowsky actor and real life eldest son Brontis), which sees him on a journey not too unlike the kind that El Topo went through, albeit in a substantially more grounded manner. It's not that this new focus doesn't work, so much as the young Alejandro moments resonate much stronger, as that perspective is more fresh material than it is for Jaime's journey, which isn't hurting for strong moments (a late section involving a chair maker is surprisingly poignant) but feels a bit too familiar, as if it was a refurbished, grounded take on El Topo's journey (complete with a surprisingly obvious quote from that film). Nevertheless, it's wonderful to see Jodorowsky as restless and eager to amaze as we remembered him being, and between this and Jodorowsky's Dune, it's hard not to notice that he's still capable of delivering even more. The cinematic environment is a lot different than it was when his first films arrived on the scene, but despite his age, he hasn't lost a step while we've been waiting for something new and personal from him, showing he still has a lot to say and show.
