Movie review: Enlighten Up! sheds light on practical, spiritual aspects of Eastern discipline

Yoga, yoga, yoga!

by John P. Meyer

Enlighten Up! is a new sort of project for filmmaker/producer Kate Churchill, who has heretofore been mostly involved in TV work (for natural history-oriented productions such as NOVA and Evolution).

This film is the antithesis of your standard "observe but don't interact" documentary production (such as American Teen), in that the actions documented have been put into motion by Churchill herself. She sets out to prove (or not) that the practice of yoga -- which she's been pursuing for the past eight years -- can turn your average guy on the street (enter Nick Rosen, who she selects as her subject) into a spiritually-awakened, karmically-sensitive individual.

So for 82 minutes of film time (and six months of theirs), Nick and Kate -- in their roles as subject and documentarist -- immerse themselves in a world of contortionist postures, bad singing and cosmic mysticism. For them, it's to be "yoga, yoga, yoga," sunup to sunset.

Their quest begins in the filmmaker's home territory: New York City, which -- judging by appearances -- is a disaffected urbanite breeding ground for a range of yogic disciplines, from the workmanlike to the would-be sublime. It's here that we begin coming to grips with yoga's embedded contradictions: It's a multi-billion dollar industry, but it's based on the idea that what's important is within, not without. Yoga is a path to physical fitness, but it's all caught up in spiritualism and contemplation of the Godhead.

From the first, Nick makes it clear that his interest in yoga is primarily for its purported physical fitness benefits. He's not particularly put off by the spiritual questing side of things (at least, not at first), but he could certainly not be classified as a seeker in that regard. He is also an unrepentant cynic, who takes with a dose of salt the statements of his fellow students to the effect that "it's better than any orgasm you've ever had" (40-ish, conservative-looking white woman) and "you will sleep better, your love life will be better, and you'll probably figure out some great ways to make more money" (62-yr.-old, happy-looking African American woman).

Once Nick becomes the focus of the film, director Churchill hands the narration reins over to him -- though she wrenches them back periodically when the dramatic flow calls for it. So we get Nick making pronouncements such as "18 million Americans practice a 'Baskin Robbins' variety of yoga." Several months into the program, he speaks sotto voce to the camera, bemoaning the fact that he hasn't even been out on a date in -- well -- several months. (A situation he remedies shortly thereafter, disregarding Kate's discouragement of what she considers a lapse in focus.)

Nick seems in many ways a perfect test subject: His father's a lawyer, and his mom practices as a shamanistic healer, so he's already hovering between two worlds, in a relational sense. When he and Kate strike out for the west coast, the practical-leaning Nick shares an immediate rapport with Diamond Dallas Page, whose yoga practice for the Hollywood rich and attractive focuses strictly on the physical. (Cue yoga babes.)

From there, the crew heads to Hawaii, where they meet with Norman Allen, who lives at the end of an isolated dirt track on the Big Island: not exactly a high-profile sort of existence. Allen comes off as a heady blend (not unlike his much-appreciated home-grown coffee) of spiritualism and practicality. Their time spent with Allen constitutes the first of a series of interchanges with remarkably impressive personalities. Regardless of whether we (or Nick) buy into the world view he's selling, it's easy to see how others would: He's a likable and charismatic presence of the highest order.

Plus, as we come to learn about several of the respected/revered teachers documented in the film, Allen maintains a charming, self-effacing and entirely unpretentious sense of humor about life and philosophy. When he suggest that Nick go fuck himself, it actually comes off as an insightful and well-intentioned prescription -- in context.

From Norman's refuge, Nick and Kate head straight to the subcontinental source of all things yogic: India. The perception of yogis in India has historically been quite different than it has in the U.S.: in Indian folk tales, yogis were often portrayed as sinister figures, serving the role of boogeymen to mischievous children.

One of the first Indian gurus encountered is a chap who's come up with a form of "laughter yoga," which discipline involves standing around in a group regimental setting and -- um -- laughing. (Well, we've always heard it's good for the soul.) From this light-hearted extreme, we get up close and personal with Sri K. Pattabhi Jois, whose spiritual insights are as widely renowned as his intricate forms.

(Sadly, we find that Guruji Jois -- who shines brightly during his on-camera interview -- passed away on May 18.)

During Nick's studies in India he becomes increasingly less thrilled about the yoga immersion project -- it's clear from his demeanor and carefully worded statements that he's no longer having a whole lot of fun. And when he sums up his experiences for Kate in the final reel by saying, "I've received some interesting insights from yoga," we conclude that he's changed his world view very little from the one he started out with.

Think of Enlighten Up! as the yoga-themed equivalent of a little film I saw recently called The Perfect Cappucino: You've gotta sample the bitters to get to the indescribably delicious. In terms of what Churchill set out to accomplish, we have to agree with Norman Allen's assessment of her cross-platform, immersive, time-constrained approach to a potentially life-altering discipline:

"Too many cooks in the kitchen."