Locarno 2024 Review: BOGANCLOCH, Modern Hermit, Meditative Poetry

Experimental filmmaker Ben Rivers returns to the isolated life of Jake Williams in his latest feature, Bogancloch. A formal sequel to Two Years at Sea, Bogancloch forgoes conventional narrative techniques, instead immersing the viewer in a contemplative exploration of solitude, simplicity, and modern asceticism.

Rivers has established a distinct cinematic style that blurs the boundaries between documentary and fiction. His films often center on individuals who live on the fringes of society, focusing on characters who have deliberately distanced themselves from the mainstream. This approach is evident in his earlier works, such as Two Years at Sea, which first introduced audiences to Jake Williams and his solitary existence in the wilderness.

Rivers’ filmmaking is characterized by deliberate pacing and a keen attention to texture and atmosphere, creating a dreamlike quality that envelops viewers in the worlds he portrays. His works typically eschew traditional narrative structures, relying instead on mood, visual poetry, and the gradual unfolding of small, meaningful moments.

Rivers revisits Williams more than a decade later, continuing his exploration of the marginal and the solitary in Bogancloch. The film observes how Williams' life has subtly evolved—or, more precisely, how it has remained remarkably consistent in a constantly changing world. Shot primarily in black and white on 16mm film, with occasional color shots providing stark contrast, Bogancloch retains the visual aesthetic of Rivers’ earlier work, highlighting the austere beauty of the natural environment and the textures of the life Williams has crafted for himself.

Rivers' choice of black and white is not merely stylistic; it serves to distill the visual elements to their essence, reflecting the simplicity of Williams’ lifestyle. The film lacks a conventional narrative and character arc, instead focusing on Williams as he goes about his daily tasks in a vast Highland forest in Scotland. Whether working around his ramshackle house, bathing outdoors, or teaching children in a school he visits with a dilapidated caravan, the film captures the rhythms of his life.

A notable shift in Bogancloch compared to Two Years at Sea is the introduction of other characters. The school scene, in particular, reveals Williams' enthusiasm for sharing knowledge, as he demonstrates the moon's orbit around the Earth using a homemade contraption of umbrella skeletons and old cans. This interaction challenges any perception of Williams as a reclusive misanthrope, revealing a man engaged with the world in his own unconventional way.

Rivers describes his method as "less of a straightforward observational documentary," instead directing and collaborating with Williams to create scenes that are as much about atmosphere as they are about documenting reality. The film is structured around the seasons, offering a cyclical view of Williams’ life that emphasizes the repetition and rhythm inherent in his chosen way of living.

Bogancloch aligns with the principles of slow cinema, eschewing plot in favor of focusing on seemingly insignificant details. Nature plays a crucial role in Williams' life, and his wanderings through the landscape offer moments of meditative tranquility. Living off the grid, Williams embraces a lifestyle free of modern anxieties and distractions, embodying a return to basics reminiscent of Thoreau’s Walden in a world increasingly dominated by data and algorithms.