You’ve probably seen the screenshots. A line of skinned dogs draped in jewels. A room full of plaster casts of Christ. Or maybe that one shot where a lizard dressed like an Aztec priest gets blown up. Honestly, nothing prepares you for the first time you sit down to watch The Holy Mountain by Alejandro Jodorowsky. It is a visual assault. It's a religious experience. For some, it’s just a massive, expensive prank.
Released in 1973, this movie didn’t just push the envelope; it shredded it and threw the pieces into a volcano. Jodorowsky was coming off the success of El Topo, the film that basically invented the "midnight movie" craze in New York. John Lennon was such a fan that he and Yoko Ono helped put up the money for this next project. Think about that for a second. The biggest rock star on the planet helped fund a movie where a character literally turns their own excrement into gold.
It’s wild.
The Brutal Reality of the Production
Most directors tell their actors to "find the character." Jodorowsky told his actors to find enlightenment. Or else. This wasn't a standard Hollywood set with trailers and catering. The cast lived together in a communal home for months. They underwent grueling spiritual training. We are talking about sleep deprivation, Zen meditation, and lessons in the Tarot.
Jodorowsky, playing the Alchemist, acted as a literal guru to the cast. He wasn't just directing; he was leading a cult of personality. He even had the actors participate in "Arica" training, a system of mystical exercises developed by Oscar Ichazo. They were stripped of their names. They were forced to confront their deepest insecurities. If you think the performances look strange and detached, it's because the people on screen were actually exhausted and socially re-engineered.
It’s actually kinda terrifying when you look at the ethics of it today. But back then? It was the height of the counter-culture’s obsession with the occult and the "breaking of the self."
The Plot That Isn't Really a Plot
Try explaining the story to someone who hasn't seen it. You start with a Thief, a man who looks remarkably like Jesus, wandering through a wasteland of consumerism and religious corruption. He meets the Alchemist. The Alchemist introduces him to the seven most powerful people on Earth. These "Planets" represent the worst of humanity:
- A weapons manufacturer who sells artful landmines.
- A political strategist who wants to lobotomize the public.
- A toy maker who trains children for war.
They decide to abandon their worldly riches. They burn their money. They literally burn wax effigies of themselves. The goal? To find the Holy Mountain, displace the gods living there, and achieve immortality. It sounds like a fantasy epic, but it plays out like a psychedelic fever dream.
Why the Visuals Still Hold Up in 2026
We live in an era of CGI. We’re used to seeing entire worlds built in a computer. But everything in The Holy Mountain is practical. When you see a thousand monks marching through a plaza, those are real people. When you see the elaborate, surrealist sets designed by Jodorowsky himself, you're seeing physical craftsmanship.
There is a weight to the film. You can feel the heat of the Mexican sun. You can smell the incense. The color palette is aggressive—vibrant reds, deep blues, and clinical whites. It’s designed to trigger a biological response. Jodorowsky didn't want you to just watch a story; he wanted to rewire your brain using "sacred geometry" and alchemical symbols.
He’s often quoted saying that he wanted the film to give the viewer "the same experience as a hit of LSD." He wasn't joking. The pacing is deliberate. It’s slow, then chaotic, then silent. It breaks every rule of traditional cinematography.
The Controversy and the "Lost" Years
For a long time, you couldn't even see this movie.
After its release, Jodorowsky had a massive falling out with his producer, Allen Klein (the infamous manager for the Beatles and the Stones). Klein wanted Jodorowsky to direct a film version of the erotic novel The Story of O. Jodorowsky refused on "spiritual grounds." In retaliation, Klein pulled The Holy Mountain and El Topo from distribution.
For over thirty years, the film existed only as grainy bootlegs passed around by film nerds. It became a myth. It wasn't until 2007 that a restoration finally hit theaters and DVD. Seeing it in high definition changed everything. People realized that Jodorowsky wasn't just a "weird" filmmaker—he was a master of composition. Every frame is a painting.
The Ending That Broke the Fourth Wall
We have to talk about the ending. If you haven't seen it, maybe skip this part. But honestly, the "spoiler" is the point.
The characters finally reach the summit of the Holy Mountain. They expect to find the Immortals. They expect a grand cosmic secret. Instead, the Alchemist looks at the camera and tells the audience that the film itself is an illusion. He literally tells the crew to pull the cameras back. You see the lights, the booms, and the sets.
"Goodbye, Holy Mountain," he says. "Real life awaits us."
It is one of the most honest moments in cinema history. Most movies try to trick you into believing their world is real. Jodorowsky does the opposite. He tells you that the "spiritual journey" you just went on was a fake, and that the only real magic is what you do when the movie ends. It’s a middle finger to the industry and a hug to the audience at the same time.
The Influence on Modern Culture
You can see the DNA of this film everywhere.
- Nicolas Winding Refn: The director of Drive is a massive Jodorowsky disciple (he even dedicated Only God Forgives to him).
- Kanye West: His Yeezus tour visuals were heavily inspired by the mountain imagery and the stark, liturgical costumes of the film.
- Marilyn Manson: He wanted Jodorowsky to direct his wedding.
- The Fashion World: Designers like Rick Owens and Alexander McQueen have frequently used the film’s aesthetic for their runway shows.
It’s more than a movie; it’s a visual dictionary for the avant-garde.
How to Actually Watch It (And Not Hate It)
If you’re going into this expecting a normal Saturday night flick, you’re going to be miserable. It’s dense. It’s often gross. It’s definitely offensive to almost every religion on the planet.
The best way to approach it is as a gallery visit. Don't worry about "getting" it. Don't try to decode every single symbol. Just let the images wash over you. It’s a Rorschach test. What you see in the film says more about you than it does about Jodorowsky.
Some people see a profound critique of capitalism. Others see a pretentious mess. Both are probably right. That’s the beauty of it. In a world of focus-tested, safe, corporate blockbusters, The Holy Mountain remains a jagged, uncomfortable, and utterly unique artifact.
Actionable Next Steps for the Aspiring Cinephile
If this sounds like your kind of chaos, here is how to dive deeper without getting lost:
- Watch the Restoration: Do not watch a low-quality upload on a random site. The colors are 50% of the experience. Find the 4K restoration by ABKCO.
- Read "The Way of Tarot": Jodorowsky wrote a massive book on the Tarot. Reading even the intro will explain why he uses certain colors and shapes in the film.
- Watch "Jodorowsky's Dune": This documentary explains his failed attempt to film the sci-fi epic. It gives you a great sense of his "spiritual warrior" approach to filmmaking.
- Contextualize the Era: Look into the Mexican "Panic Movement" (Mouvement Panique) which Jodorowsky co-founded. It explains the surrealist, shocking nature of his early work.
- Listen to the Soundtrack: Jodorowsky co-composed the music. It’s a mix of jazz, traditional Mexican sounds, and eerie synth work that stands alone as a great album.
This film is a mountain. You don't just watch it; you climb it. And like any climb, it’s supposed to be difficult. But the view from the top—even if it's just a film set—is unlike anything else you’ll ever see.