TOUCHING THE VOID
by James Snapko
Kevin
Macdonald's gripping new film Touching the Void
explores the fragile relationship between man and nature, the immutable
power of the heart's desire, and the dangers of mountain climbing --
all at an altitude of more than 20,000 feet.
Survival stories always seem to be popular in literature and film.
The ability to survive earth's harshest elements, no matter the costs,
has been a tried and true literary and filmic theme that, perhaps in
recent years, has become formulaic. But these stories still work. In
1985, Joe Simpson and Simon Yates came close to not making it out of
the void they touched; documentarian Kevin Macdonald (One
Day In September) gives their story an emotional and psychological
bite as sharp as the sub-zero wind chills that pierce the climbers'
frostbitten skin during their quest to conquer Mother Nature. By using
recreations with actors and talking head interviews of the actual climbers
retelling their story, Macdonald creates a grim and haunting film that
is likely to stay with you long after you leave the theater.
The film tells the story of Simpson and Yates' harrowing climb up Siula
Grande, a secluded mountain, located in a remote part of north-central
Peru , that apparently had never been climbed before. Joe and Simon
were two brash, ambitious British
mountain
climbers in their early twenties. They had spent plenty of time in Alps
refining their skills before then, but this was their first climb in
an exotic locale. They set out early one morning and made great strides
toward the summit on the first day. On the second day they were thwarted
by a vicious snowstorm and had to stop short of their goal. Finally,
with the help of good weather, they reached the ridge of the mountain,
and climbed to the summit by mid-afternoon of the third day. Simon states
that he wasn't overjoyed by reaching their destination, because 80%
off all climbing accidents occur on the descent. What made him uneasy
was the mountain's treacherous character; it's extremely dangerous because
of the sheer slope and the curious way powdery snow builds up on the
ridges and ice-covered rocks, making the traverse downward precarious.
What happened in the next four days is a survival narrative that is
at times horrifying and at times unbelievable. Early on during the descent,
Joe broke his leg, forcing Simon to lower him down by two 150 ft. ropes,
in an excruciatingly slow and painful manner for both climbers. When
Simon unknowingly lowered Joe over a gaping crevasse, a moral dilemma
presented itself: cut the rope and let Joe die, or be killed along with
him.
Simon cut the rope, hoping that he could make it down alone --
the only decision he could have made. But somehow Joe survived the 150 foot. fall into the crevasse. From that point, the film follows Joe in his astounding journey into the crevasse and out again. He endures his hardships -- a broken limb, frostbite, dehydration, and hallucinations -- with perplexing fortitude, slowly crawling, hopping, and struggling his way back to base camp. His journey shows the will, determination, and strength that are at the core of humanity. In essence, this is why this story works.
Macdonald's filmmaking is a monumental achievement, in and of itself. In order to recreate the events, the crew went to the actual mountain, climbing with actors on sheer cliffs of ice and snow, around the landscape near base camp that features beautiful rocky terrain and stark aquamarine lakes, and inside actual glacier crevasses. The crevasse footage is some of the most ominous and beautiful imagery in the film. Many of the shots call attention to themselves because of how difficult it would be to achieve them. However, the filmmaking process (the types of shots, the eerie sound design, and the editing) is seamless. Macdonald brings us into a lifeless and frigid world, a void, a godforsaken place that no human should set foot on. That's why the film is compelling, and perhaps one of the reasons these men attempted to climb it in the first place. We get to see a place most people have never seen (apparently it's the first time anyone has ever filmed at this location).
In addition, the director's aesthetic choices emphasize the psychological duress the men are under, and build up a great amount of suspense. It's not so much about what happened as it is about how it happened. Since the men who went through this ordeal are both interviewed for the film, its obvious they both
survived, but it doesn't detract from the film's potency. Their point of view is supplanted by the omniscient filmmaking, with its documentary style of conveying information. Some of the most effective moments in the film are delivered through Macdonald's choice in shots, rather than in the matter-of-fact interviews with the climbers. For the most part he uses third person images, as if we are along on the quest, and an editing strategy similar to that used by Hitchcock or other classsic Hollywood directors. Whether it's extreme close-ups of the climbing gear, the vertiginous angles of the climbers from above and below amplifying their precarious positions, the swooping aerial footage of the mountain range, or the extreme long majestic shots of Siula Grande reaching up into the sky -- towering over the subjects and suggesting a duality as a thing of wonder and menacing force -- almost every shot adds to the film's dramatic impact.
I can't pretend that I can identify with the reasons behind undertaking
such a dangerous task as climbing a four-mile high mountain. But I appreciate
Macdonald's attempt to communicate the story. He has said that he couldn't
understand why Yates would do such a thing as he did (cutting the rope),
but after going through the same process and experiencing some of the
same elements as they did, he came to a better understanding. Climbing
mountains is an obsessive sport, and people die every year attempting
to ascend one rocky pinnacle or other -- in a search for some kind of
internal or spiritual gratification. Once someone makes it to the summit
of a large mountain, it's a life-affirming event. You feel like you
matter in the world, like you've made an impact. And that's something,
I suppose, we all strive for in some way.

©2004 James Snapko
CineScene