Saw it at a friend's cottage on a remote part of Lake Huron (appropriate setting, maybe).At one point during the narration, Mettler talks of how, historically, the first filmed event was of a locomotive, and when it was shown to the public, they ran from the theatre, thinking it was real. After mentioning this, he asks "Are you cold yet?". It's a great line, since he's been showing us frigid, Siberian-like footage of the Canadian North for the last half hour. I liked this documentary a lot, which surprised me a little, as I was highly critical of his more recent "Gambling Gods and LSD". In this film, however, the poetic narration perfectly fits the visuals, as we are constantly bombarded with desolate, lonely images and fantastic shots of the northern lights. Mettler also gets some great interview footage from some of the locals, notably the motel owner and the old Native man and his daughter. The camera shots and angles seem to have more of a purpose here, and the long takes of things like train lights and frost on a window relate directly to the many themes of the film (something I thought did not happen in "Gambling etc"). It's a very enjoyable film.
5 Reviews
Fascinating documentary
grmagne1 May 2000
Definitely a must-see if you're interested in the Aurora Borealis phenomenon and enjoy unique documentaries. This film contains an interesting blend of quirky comedy, extraordinary cinematography and, of course, fascinating images of the northern lights. Peter Mettler and his crew examine northern culture and film the lights in Churchill, Manitoba, Canada while braving -30 degree temperatures!
A beautiful, uncanny picture
drrap30 July 2001
This film is a strange, crystalline artifact, part cinema verité and part unabashed paean to the heavens. The earlier part of the film is almost a comedy of errors, as the film crew films itself on the train to Churchill, Manitoba, and ends up stuck in one of the town's few hotels during a blizzard. For fun, the hotel's owners shoots a hole in the wall with a high-power rifle, and they watch the snowflakes blow through the hole. But once the weather clears and the crew actually gets out to film their announced subject, the northern lights have never shimmered so brightly, in an ethereal silence never to be seen on a National Geographic special.
I saw this film at a conference in North Bay, Ontario -- and got the sense that it isn't seen much in the U.S. Too bad! It would be an excellent candidate for a widescreeen DVD release.
I saw this film at a conference in North Bay, Ontario -- and got the sense that it isn't seen much in the U.S. Too bad! It would be an excellent candidate for a widescreeen DVD release.
For the world is hollow and I have touched the sky
rooprect25 September 2014
Definitely a ponderous experience, "Picture of Light" is not so much a standard documentary as it is a series of poetic images of the great white north accompanied by soul searching thoughts spoken by director/cinematographer/explorer Peter Mettler. The film chronicles his journey to film the aurora borealis at Churchill, Manitoba. Just now I tried to google driving directions from New York City to Churchill, and Google told me to stop wasting bandwidth and get a job.
The film features breathtaking time-lapse footage of the northern lights, but as it required 1 hour of filming for each 6 seconds, it's not like the 83 minute documentary is all about the lights. Most of the northern lights footage is shown in the last 20 minutes of the film. Leading up to those scenes we have lots of artistic shots of frozen wilderness, lonely trains cutting through the snow, and even some video from the space shuttle observing the aurora from 100 miles above it. Don't get too excited; there's no clear video of the aurora from the shuttle, only still b&w images.
The bulk of the film is made up of interviews with the locals. Some are fun & colorful like the motel owner who shoots a hole in the wall to demonstrate how a 2" hole will fill half a room with snow (I won't spoil whether or not it actually happens). Other locals like the native Inuit, seem very serious. One slightly disturbing individual, a hunter, talks about "bathing" (short for "blood bathing") where, driven by lust for carnage and a lack of moral inhibitions, some people go on wanton animal killing sprees. That part was unsettling because it makes you realize how some isolated northerners can engage in horrific practices like clubbing baby seals to death and going on wolf shoots for the thrill. But I digress... the movie doesn't dwell on those thoughts, although you could hear that the interviewer was a bit disturbed, taking long pauses before asking "But do you ever feel bad?" Most of the documentary is an awe inspiring look at the enormity of nature and humans' attempt to possess it. The themes are not predictable clichés like "we should be humble". Instead the recurring theme is a compelling thought about how/why we feel the need to capture & record events. This movie was done in 1994, long before iphones, youtube and viral facebook videos. So perhaps it was prophetic the director talks about how humans feel such a need to validate experiences by capturing images.
About the aurora itself: amazing. I would love to see this in widescreen HD, but even on the slightly grainy DVD at 1.33:1 it's powerful. Oddly enough, I was most impressed not just by the aurora but by the entire sky itself & the way, in time lapse, it moves and gives us a sense of our own general motion in space. Hence my title (a Star Trek reference for you non-nerds) alluding to the idea that this video actually made me feel enclosed and limited, in that we humans of the year 2014 will never get to step outside our atmosphere (if even our countries) to experience the wonders that this universe offers.
If you can't tell, "Picture of Light" has got my brain lit up like a Christmas tree as I consider the things I've been shown and told. If you decide to watch, be sure to give it your full attention. This isn't the kind of documentary you play in the background as you fold your laundry. It demands very brain cell.
The film features breathtaking time-lapse footage of the northern lights, but as it required 1 hour of filming for each 6 seconds, it's not like the 83 minute documentary is all about the lights. Most of the northern lights footage is shown in the last 20 minutes of the film. Leading up to those scenes we have lots of artistic shots of frozen wilderness, lonely trains cutting through the snow, and even some video from the space shuttle observing the aurora from 100 miles above it. Don't get too excited; there's no clear video of the aurora from the shuttle, only still b&w images.
The bulk of the film is made up of interviews with the locals. Some are fun & colorful like the motel owner who shoots a hole in the wall to demonstrate how a 2" hole will fill half a room with snow (I won't spoil whether or not it actually happens). Other locals like the native Inuit, seem very serious. One slightly disturbing individual, a hunter, talks about "bathing" (short for "blood bathing") where, driven by lust for carnage and a lack of moral inhibitions, some people go on wanton animal killing sprees. That part was unsettling because it makes you realize how some isolated northerners can engage in horrific practices like clubbing baby seals to death and going on wolf shoots for the thrill. But I digress... the movie doesn't dwell on those thoughts, although you could hear that the interviewer was a bit disturbed, taking long pauses before asking "But do you ever feel bad?" Most of the documentary is an awe inspiring look at the enormity of nature and humans' attempt to possess it. The themes are not predictable clichés like "we should be humble". Instead the recurring theme is a compelling thought about how/why we feel the need to capture & record events. This movie was done in 1994, long before iphones, youtube and viral facebook videos. So perhaps it was prophetic the director talks about how humans feel such a need to validate experiences by capturing images.
About the aurora itself: amazing. I would love to see this in widescreen HD, but even on the slightly grainy DVD at 1.33:1 it's powerful. Oddly enough, I was most impressed not just by the aurora but by the entire sky itself & the way, in time lapse, it moves and gives us a sense of our own general motion in space. Hence my title (a Star Trek reference for you non-nerds) alluding to the idea that this video actually made me feel enclosed and limited, in that we humans of the year 2014 will never get to step outside our atmosphere (if even our countries) to experience the wonders that this universe offers.
If you can't tell, "Picture of Light" has got my brain lit up like a Christmas tree as I consider the things I've been shown and told. If you decide to watch, be sure to give it your full attention. This isn't the kind of documentary you play in the background as you fold your laundry. It demands very brain cell.
The Magic of Reality
gerstyn5 March 2020
Picture of Light is exemplary of Peter Mettler's best work, probing humanity's deepest philosophical questions through a cinematic style that foregrounds the role of the camera in shaping our knowledge of the world. One particular scene illustrates this style perfectly: it begins with shots that survey the stillness of emerging night in the small northern town of Churchill, Manitoba. The filmmakers have come in search of the ecstatic bursts of Aurora Borealis occasionally unleashed in the skies overhead, and the entire film is premised upon the long waits and technical difficulties inherent in their quest to capture the lights on film. Mettler speaks in a personal tone on the voiceover while describing things at once banal and fantastic. As we listen, we slowly become witness to fleeting celestial formations rendered in time-lapse, a cinematic device that has become a signature mark of self-reflexivity while maintaining its ability to draw us into the film instead of acting as a distanciating effect. Throughout the scene we also hear Jim O'Rourke's ambient score providing a consistent tonal thread, which transcends any perceived distinctions between the film's constituent elements. Mettler ends the scene by saying: "we tell ourselves that seeing it on TV just isn't the same as being there," as though this were an idea that humans came up with to keep the boundary between reality and representation perfectly clear. But the boundary is not clear, and it never has been. The film does not suggest any incompatibility between a desire to keep the audience constantly aware of its own making while inducing the wonder that we might experience if we were to be in the filmmaker's position. The filming process is explained to us every step of the way, and there is no illusionist premise by which the filmmakers would want us to lose sight of the edges of the frame. So we are not confronted with the shock of disillusionment found high atop Jodorowsky's Holy Mountain. Our awareness of the filmmaking process is the process by which we become mesmerized. The genius of Mettler's style is that it allows us simultaneous access to the wonders of its subject and the means through which this subject is turned into the film itself. Mettler's style shows us that reflexivity does not have to jolt the audience out of rapture. Science does not have to negate magic. They are each part of the other, as inseparable as the elements of any film that attempts to show us something new in the world.
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