Kailansorac Clever, believable, and super fun to watch. It totally has replay value.

Guillelmina The film's masterful storytelling did its job. The message was clear. No need to overdo.

Staci Frederick Blistering performances.

Dana An old-fashioned movie made with new-fashioned finesse.

Gareth Crook It starts slow, really painfully slow. No dialogue until 25 minutes, when a couple get in and mention they're going to worship at the temple and what fun it'll be. They have a chicken with them. We see the couple again at the end, the only people to appear twice. They still have the chicken, but it's feet are sticking out of a carrier bag. It's an odd documentary, like zen people watching. The idea being you're in the cable car with them, climbing up and down the Nepalese hillsides. It's made to look like one continuous shot, but isn't, although there's still a real honesty and clarity about it. Each time the car reaches a station, it plunges into darkness at the turnaround, there's a wait to see who's next as figures slowly reveal themselves in the shadows. Then with a sudden rush of sunlight as the car emerges, we're greeted with goats! Fantastic!! The goats watch as the hill side passes. What do they make of it is anyone's guess, but a few euphoric sounding bleats suggest they're having fun. At least until they get to the temple that is. The three metalheads taking photos are very funny and the two old ladies struggling with fast melting ice-cream are hilarious!! There's a weird intermission of darkness at the half way mark, with a few minutes of just sound. It's eerie, but fits well. As unusually entertaining as all this is, it's the two guys that get in with their instruments (Sarangi... I googled it) that steal the show. They muse on how things have changed in the world, tune up said instruments and proceed to bang out a song. It could be that much of the silence in the film heightens this musical interlude, but it's still pretty cool. Which is a good summary of the film, it's pretty cool.

aurora-herrera Manakamana is a spiritual experience. True, it is filmed inside a cable car that is transporting its passengers to a temple in the foothills of the Nepalese Himalayas dedicated to Manakamana, the Hindu goddess of good fortune. However, the ethereal experience of the film does not only belong to the passengers but also to us, the audience, the voyeurs. The work is filmed in 16mm and records 11 trips. This gives the audience the depth of time to watch, listen, observe and internalize these pilgrims. In this hypnotizing act of looking, we become pilgrims ourselves, enthralled in a simultaneous internal and external exploration of landscapes. Stephanie Spray and Pacho Velez are the filmmakers behind this work. Stephanie Spray is a filmmaker, phonographer and anthropologist who has been working at the Sensory Ethnography Laboratory at Harvard University since 2006. Her work exploits different media to explore the confluence of social aesthetics and art in everyday life. Since 1999 she has spent much of her time in Nepal, roaming its mountains; studying its music, religion and language; and making films. Pacho Velez's work sits at the intersection of ethnography, structuralism and political documentary. Though shot in different countries, using distinct formal strategies, his films share a preoccupation with local responses to broad changes wrought by globalisation. He teaches at Bard College.These two influences are reflected in the situation of the work geographically, both on a temporal and otherworldly level. The nuances of culture, gender, nationality, age, and marital status are all revealed to us on this journey. As a trio of elderly women, a pair of young American tourists, a husband and wife, three young men, two musicians and a small herd of goats each take their trip above the rich and verdant landscape, a character study ensues. Each entity is occupying space that someone else previously did. However, even though they may be travelling along the same route and may have the same destination, they are all worlds apart. One of the things that I will carry forever with me of this film, is the feeling that not only was I watching these people but they were watching me too. The camera lens felt like a two way portal. That feeling of being connected to another time, space and entity engendered feeling of meditative peace and tranquility. It sparked a complex internal dialogue that could not be translated with words.This film is probably the furthest thing away from Hollywood that I have seen, at least in a long time. It is breathtaking in the boundaries that it challenges and transcendental in its quiet ambition.

Howard Schumann If life is up and down with a few bumps along the way, what better representation is there than a cable car's ride up and down a mountain? This particular cable car ride takes place in the riveting documentary Manakamana, a ride that brings passengers, both foreign and local, to the Manakamana Temple in the Gorkha district of Nepal. Consisting of ten-minute segments with extra time taken to show a darkened terminus building, the film is a portrait of nine different families and friends visiting a shrine to the Hindu goddess Manakamana who, it is believed, makes wishes come true.Stephanie Spray and Pacho Velez (Leviathan) of Harvard's Sensory Ethnography Lab, with their 16mm camera anchored to the floor, simply filmed people going up to the 17th century temple, as well as those on their way down (one trip is a voyage with four goats tied together being brought to the temple to be sacrificed). Out of thirty-five trips shot by the filmmakers, eleven were selected and the film was edited over a period of eighteen months. Spray, who has lived in Nepal since 1999 knew some of the passengers and this may account for the fact that conversations are natural and relaxed, even though I'm sure they couldn't help being aware of the camera.The first trip is silent as an elderly man sits next to his grandson, occasionally gazing at the passing scenery as the car climbs higher and higher. When conversations do begin after about twenty minutes into the film, people talk about their families, their religion, the way it used to be, a trail that is no longer used, and the replacement of thatched roofs by slate and slate roofs by tin. Many comment on the beauty of the surrounding hills and the sal trees, said to be favored by Vishnu in the Hindu tradition and under which Buddha is supposed to have been born.Three older women chant their message of worship to the goddess while, in a sharp cultural shift, three long-haired young men talk about their rock band and take pictures of themselves from their mobile device. Additionally, there are two young women who speak English, one sounding like an American, the other Nepalese. We are also entranced by the journey of two accomplished musicians who perform on the traditional stringed instrument known as the sarangi. One of the most entertaining and playful sequences is that of two older women on their way down eating ice cream on a stick, trying to prevent it from dripping all over them and the cable car.Many of the passengers bring offerings to the goddess such as a basket of flowers and a rooster, though it is reported that the sacrifice of poultry has been banned. While it is tempting to search for a spiritual message from the film, to me its pleasure lies in the simple joy of just being with a diverse group of people, some young, some old, and sharing some time with them. The American girl tells her friend that she has had a hard time finding something to write in her diary every day, that sometimes nothing really interesting happens. Indeed, we are trained to always wait for something to happen. Manakamana allows us to have the experience that, regardless of its seemingly repetitive nature, life is always new, unique, and beautiful. In each day and in each moment, a reason to celebrate.

ellen5678 I just saw this at TIFF today, and feel like I must write about it. A lot has been written about this film, so I'm going to focus on a few things that struck me about it. First, it's exquisitely beautiful; set in the mountains of Nepal, we watch as various people and animals go up and down the mountain in a cable car, to and from the Manakamana temple housing a goddess. So, there's not a lot of action, there's no "story", no narration, no guide to help us understand what's going on. But if we're mindful, if we 'go' towards the film, to whatever is happening in that cable car, then the rewards are many. And it's likely somewhat different for each of us. At first I felt like a voyeur, watching what I imagine was a grandfather and grandson going up. They didn't speak, and the grandfather looked like he might have felt a little self-conscious, but that might have just been my projection. The next person was a single woman bringing what looked like an offering. She too seemed a little tense, and again, it's hard to know why – anticipation of meeting the goddess? the camera? the cable car ride? something else entirely? Then on come people who speak to each other, and it's both a relief and takes a little away from the mindfulness, because our attention is now focused both on what they're saying and on the actual action of sitting in a moving cable car with a staggeringly gorgeous background. A few of my favourite passengers: The three elderly wives who've left their husband (it seems that they're all married to one man) at home. They calmly sit in a row; the two at the ends chat, while the third middle one is silent except for a short prayer toward the end of their ride. The three young bar musicians provide quite a contrast to the three wives; they chat, they are young, and they are in constant motion. The seat seems too small for them, and yet they are not overweight at all. Like everyone, I loved the comic relief of the two women eating ice cream, with the dynamics of one having a plastic bag to catch the melting confectionery, while the other had to make do with the wrapping and her clothing. The two musicians who play as they descend – it was almost too much sensory input! We have been treated to such incredible visual stimulation, and now the auditory experience of the music—I had to close my eyes because I couldn't handle the intensity of the input from two senses. There's so much more, but the best thing to do is see the film. Be prepared though, because if you're not ready to reach for it, it will be "boring", as one person said at the screening today. We are as equally responsible for the 'action' as are the filmmakers.