City of Wax: A weirdly intense look at bees

Is this for you?

If you have a thing for old macro photography or just want to feel weirdly anxious for twenty minutes, City of Wax is a must. If you need a narrative or a friendly narrator telling you everything is okay, you’ll probably find this movie deeply unsettling. It’s not exactly a bedtime story.

There is something about watching bees in high-contrast black and white that feels like peering into an alien civilization. You realize pretty quickly that they aren't 'cute' at all. They are just tiny, fuzzy machines operating on a loop.

The closeups are shockingly good for the era. You can see the fuzz on their legs and the way they vibrate when they’re trying to build those wax cells. It makes you realize how much work goes into a single drop of honey. Honestly, it makes me feel a bit guilty for eating it on my toast this morning. 🍯

Odd moments

There’s a specific sequence where the camera just lingers on a drone bee wandering around looking completely lost. It reminded me of the feeling you get watching The Struggle, where everything feels slightly claustrophobic. The bees don't stop. They don't have an 'off' switch.

The pacing is relentless. Unlike Bread, which has that quiet, industrial rhythm, this movie feels like the bees are actually shouting at you. Or maybe that's just the sound of the projector hum. Either way, it’s a lot.

• The wax construction scenes are basically high-stakes architecture.
• The narrator’s voice is so calm it almost feels sarcastic.
• I counted three different bees just bumping into walls. Relatable.

It’s not perfect. Sometimes the editing feels like it was done with a pair of rusty garden shears. You get a beautiful shot of a honeycomb, and then—*snap*—you’re looking at something completely unrelated. It keeps you on your toes, I guess.

It’s strange to think people in the 1920s sat in theaters and watched this instead of, say, Le fantôme du Moulin-Rouge. It’s a totally different kind of spectacle. Less dancing, more buzzing.

If you watch it, pay attention to the way the queen moves. She doesn't have time for anyone's nonsense. She just drifts through the frame like she owns the place. Which, I suppose, she does.

Overall, it’s a weird little artifact. I’m glad it exists, even if it makes my skin crawl just a little bit. 🐝