Somewhere in the city of Taipei, there is a place called the Doll House. It isn’t called that because it is small, but because the owner doesn’t have to go to work every day like everyone else. Somewhere in Sri Lanka, several bubble houses were built after the Tsunami, where someone had a dream of knocking on a green bubble house where you answered the door. In Peru, there is a path on top of a mountain where you walk above the clouds.
And by you, I mean you. You, the viewer. You the reader of this review. That is because you appear in The Human Surge 3, the epic art travelogue written and directed by experimental auteur Eduardo Williams. You because you are a member of humanity. You because Williams has reserved a place for you on this journey, which will also visit Hong Kong, Argentina, Portugal, Brazil, and the Netherlands. Alongside you are onscreen travelers Bo-Kai Hsu, Meera Nadarasa, Sharika Navamani, Abel Navarro, Livia Silvano, and Ri Ri Yang. Not everyone is with everyone all the time. In fact, in one sequence, the viewer is left alone in a jungle with nothing to do except watch a monkey think.
This is not a walk on the sunny side of the street. Everywhere Williams films is dark and gloomy with plenty of rain. Everyone speaks about having to go to work at jobs they don’t like. We are constantly reminded that there is no shame to be had unless you are a multi-millionaire. There are some areas where death could be at your elbow any moment. And it can be really cold unless you are partying in an almost too hot ocean, even at night.

“In Peru, there is a path on top of a mountain where you walk above the clouds.”
Also, you will wander, but you will not know why. You will not divine a purpose from the random conversations you hear in the background. In most shots, the subjects are so far away from the camera that you cannot make out their features. You are not here to vicariously live through any of the characters or get cathartic thrills from their actions. You are planted into one landscape after another, jumping to another country without warning until one continent blends into another. It is all about the trip, not the destination.
The highly experimental structure and feel of The Human Surge 3 plays like an international version of Richard Linklater’s Slacker. There is even an allusion to Slacker at the end when it recreates the famous camera falling off a hill shot. Like that indie classic, Williams uses very long takes filled with vast stretches of walking through unusual places, recording talk about eclectic things.
It doesn’t go into Madonna pap-smear territory, but it manages to hit themes that anyone on the planet could identify. I know the subject of what it means to be alive on this planet is a hard target, as such a tremendous subject is a very tiny dartboard to hit. Williams gets a bullseye. No matter how far away he goes, he keeps finding pieces of existence that fit perfectly with the other ones found elsewhere.
Even if you are not a veteran of experimental film, The Human Surge 3 is relatable enough to treat strangers to avant-garde cinema with hospitality. All you have to do is forget about watching the movie and let the movie watch you. Just listen to the thunder in the distance, overhear part of someone else’s life, and feast your eyes on vistas unseen until now.