Aquarela - L'Odyssée de l'eau -

Greetings again from the darkness. This is not your father's Nature documentary. It's more like Mother Nature giving us a glimpse at her most beautiful, peaceful, ferocious and terrifying self. And it's just water. Simple H2O. Only it's not so simple. In fact, water takes many forms, and Russian filmmaker Victor Kossakovsky serves up some stunning water photography from around the globe.

The film begins with a rescue team working frantically to pull out a car that has fallen through the ice. When the camera finally does pull back, we see the vast space of the lake covered in ice. Other cars speed across the frozen body of water as if it's a sport or thrill for the driver. When another mishap occurs, we realize the tragedy is blamed on ice that has melted "3 weeks" earlier than usual. So we brace ourselves for another lecture on climate change.

It's a lecture that never comes. Surprisingly, there is no narrator. Perhaps Morgan Freeman signed a non-compete with the penguins. Kossakovsky allows the camera and nature to show the story, albeit with periodic musical accompaniment from composer Eicca Toppinen - sometimes with heavy metal chords, sometimes with soothing strings. Filmed in Greenland, Venezuela, Siberia (Lake Baikal), and Miami, Florida, where we see the effect of Hurricane Irma, water is shown in its glory. At times peaceful, at times violent. A sailboat captain fighting a storm might be followed by a breath-taking waterfall, which might be followed by a flooded town ... and even a swimming horse is photographed underwater.

Waves, glaciers, whales and dolphins combine for an unusual cinematic experience, and the most staggering sound comes courtesy of the ice moaning and water running. It's one best enjoyed with theatre screen and sound, and a film that will likely lose something even on the finest home systems. Filmed at 94 frames per second (rather than industry norm of 24 or 48), the visuals are truly breathtaking ... and sometimes disorienting. As George (on "Seinfeld") once said, "The sea was angry that day, my friend"; and now we have witnessed the anger for ourselves.

Enterprising theater owners will make this a midnight movie, especially in states where cannabis is legal. I saw the film completely sober at the SF Film Festival, at a Dolby cinema where the intense visuals and sound made me feel high as a kite. It was like a rollercoaster that I wanted to ride again as soon as it was over. Whew! My mouth was hanging open and and my eyebrows at their highest height for the whole movie. Parts of it were like a horror film, parts of it were psychedelic, parts of it were just spectacularly beautiful.

There's no narrative, no plot, no dialogue. It's just pure experience. Cinema to stimulate your senses and your ability to perceive the grandeur of the earth. At the end I felt the film was a eulogy for the planet, something that should be put in a time capsule so that someday other creatures would be able to see what this planet was and think what a shame that humans ruined that place.

I assume that most people will miss out on this film but it really should be seen by everyone who still has the ability to grasp what is happening with climate change. Kudos to the cinematographer and the director. This film should win awards. I wish I could see it again and again.... If this film doesn't inspire environmental activism I don't know what will. I hope Al Gore sees it and promotes it on his tours...

It can sometimes be unfair and difficult to criticize this kind of film. Yes, it´s pretty but nowadays most filmmakers can make such films. We should demand more of the best. Aquarela is a poetic documentary that focuses on the power and beauty of water around the world. The cinematography is impressive, and some of the shots are truly breathtaking. However, the film doesn't follow a traditional story or offer much context, which made it feel slow and a bit hard to stay engaged at times. It's more of an experience than a story driven documentary-great if you're into visuals and atmosphere, but it might not be for everyone looking for a clear narrative or deeper knowledge.

I really didn't like this movie. It starts off with some kind of rescue operation, with some very impressive imagery, but the lack of context and information render this section a bit pointless and hard to invest emotionally. The rest of the movie is just images of water around the world in various shapes and forms, again with no context or information. Movies like Koyaanisqatsi and Baraka come to mind while watching a movie like this, but the imagery in this movie, while good, pales in comparison with the before mentioned masterpieces, and if you're not invested emotionally the cinematography should be jaw dropping. But if you like to watch a movie while contemplating about your life and what groceries you need to shop for tomorrow's dinner, this is the movie for you.

I saw it at Sundance a couple of days ago. I was enthralled by it and sad when it ended. The opening is narratively engaging, yes, with humans and story. That is fascinating, but the film really gets going when it get's past any promise of overall narrative, and begins with its true purpose: to offer a privileged window into the true awesomeness of the water on this planet. Frozen, still, turbulent, graceful, violent, beautiful, it is all there, painstakingly captured with top shelf equipment and cinematography. It is a cinematic poem and of visual glory, awe-inspiring power and incredible natural sounds, mixed and designed in Dolby Atmos surround. The sound is immersive in a way that no other film I have seen has been, and it invites one to surrender and sink into the film. It is not a narrative journey, but a visual and sensual one, that allows time and space to contemplate part of the world we live in, both in celebration and contemplation of human's impact. It is not an overtly environmentalist film, other than to remind us of the power and beauty of nature, and to show some of how we interact with it. There are moments where the film is scored, with Finnish heavy metal. This worked very well. I had the impression that power chords and distortion may be the only fitting texture to score images of such raw power as thousands of tons of turbulent waves of water. The visuals sometimes get abstract in a beautiful way that reminds me of the films of Stan Brakhage, specifically Mothlight and Window Water Baby Moving. Again, it invites one to just let it wash over you, and to enjoy the ride. I can't wait to see this film again, next time hopefully in true 96 fps, which I understand unlocks an entirely new visual experience. I fully expected an uproarious standing ovation at the end of the screening. I was surprised to hear an average reaction from the crowd. I think people need to approach film with more openness and patience, and not fall into the trap of judging it in the narrow context of "entertainment". This is a cinematic poem on an epic scale and I am so very grateful for its creation.