Wind, Tide & Oar

I rarely watch this kind of film and went because the maker is a friend's brother. It does not have a linear story, though it is in three sections relating (somehow) to the turning of the tide. I found it very enjoyable once I tuned in to its study of texture - and old rope, worn wood, metal... - sounds such as the clank of a windlass as an anchor is raised or a sail hauled up - as well as light in sunrises and sunsets over estuaries, offshore wind turbines and the ever-changing sea. For me is is a collection of breath - catching moments that pleasurably filled the whole running time. Just when I was thinking 'more of the same', something unexpected and new would pull me back in.

I rarely write a review - however this film was such a unique and immersive experience I felt that I should share this. I watched Wind, Tide and Oar in an independent cinema on a stormy night in Devon last week, the theme was so refreshing and uplifting, providing a timely reminder that there are alternatives to the disconnected way we live, a slower, richer approach which sadly seems to have been lost. It was a meditative journey, with lingering edits which drew me into the drama of sailing, water and people. Then something I have rarely experienced, after the screening people hung back, chatting about the film which created a lovely atmosphere. A real treat and experience that will stay with me.

This is quite an entertaining and informative documentary that follows a collection of mariners - both amateur and more professional, as they try to navigate the waterways of England using boats without engines. From small rowing boats to dinghies, sloops and even large-scale clippers that could have the potential - à la the Cutty Sark - to revolutionise the global distribution of goods and people whilst profoundly reducing the environmental impact caused using fossil fuels. Aside from showcasing some of the beauty and ruggedness of the Essex, Norfolk and Cornish scenery, it introduces us to a quirky band of people, often accompanied with some drink-induced sea shanties and a bit of toe-tapping at their aptly named "jolly". The ingenuity on display here is also remarkable, with skills long since forgotten being re-learned and/or adapted to 21st century living. It's a bit too earnest at times, and in many ways reminded me a little of last year's "Wilding" film that maybe looks a little unrealistically at the scalability of their aspirations when faced with the laws of supply and demand for six billion folk, but it's heart is in the right place and the gentle ebbing and flowing of the tides rocking their craft as they tack their, frequently quite aged, craft is actually quite a soothing, almost cathartic, watch that combines a bit of nostalgia with a way of life that simply has to obey nature, whether we like it or not. The filming (I think the only tape used here was to hold up one of the masts) is all hand-held, intimate, and sometimes wouldn't look out of place in an edition of the "Onedin Line". I'm slightly surprised it got a cinema release, but it's certainly worth an hour or so.