Showing posts with label Jacques-Yves Cousteau. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jacques-Yves Cousteau. Show all posts
REVIEW: DVD Release: World Without Sun
Film: World Without Sun
Year of production: 1964
UK Release date: 23rd May 2011
Distributor: Go Entertain
Certificate: E
Running time: 93 mins
Director: Jacques-Yves Cousteau
Genre: Documentary
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France/Italy/USA
Language: French (English dub)
Review by: James Garner
Jacques Cousteau is widely regarded as one of the pioneers of marine conservation, and his documentaries introduced millions of people across the globe to the wonders of aquatic life. World Without Sun proved to a be a huge hit following its release in 1964; fascinating audiences with its footage of seven oceanauts going about their daily lives in an undersea station and exploring the hidden depths of the Red Sea off the coast of Sudan.
Cousteau established his underwater base, called Continental Shelf Station Two, in order to further his studies of marine life and to see how men adapted to life on the ocean floor. He and his fellow oceanauts spent one month living in the structure, situated 10 metres beneath the surface.
Apart from the five-roomed main base, there was also an underwater hangar that housed a flying saucer-shaped yellow submarine, and a small ‘deep cabin’ in which two oceanauts lived in cramped confines at a depth of 30 metres for one week at a time. The entire operation was supported from above by a team based on Cousteau’s ship, the Calypso, but the sense of isolation is palpable, especially in the ‘deep cabin’, where there was barely any space to move around in, and the helium-rich air the men breathed caused them to sound like chipmunks.
The oceanauts encountered all manner of strange and beautiful sea creatures when they were diving in the surrounding waters and capturing sea life to study, but perhaps the most interesting part of World Without Sun is watching the men trying to establish a daily routine in the main base; drinking, eating, smoking, listening to music and playing with their pet parrot…
The machinery involved may look a little dated now, but it has a retro science fiction-esque charm made all the more absorbing by the fact that what we’re seeing is real. That said, at the time of its release, there were accusations from certain quarters that Cousteau had faked some of the footage, allegations that he vigourously denied.
Near the end of World Without Sun, we see the two-man submarine travelling to a depth of 300 metres and discovering an undersea cavern with a pocket of air. A camera outside the craft shows the hatch being opened, and an oceanaut inspecting the cavern without the aid of any breathing apparatus. Real, faked or partially staged, it’s an intriguing sequence that sparked debate among oceanographic experts at the time, some claiming that such a cavern with an air pocket is an impossibility.
What is clear, though, is that Cousteau was something of a showman, and was highly skilled at making complex scientific data accessible and easily comprehensible to ordinary viewers with limited knowledge of oceanography and marine life. Whether you think he faked footage in World Without Sun or not, it’s undeniable that Cousteau was a crucial figure in heightening awareness of marine life and the need for stronger conservation measures. That he did so with such style and gentle humour makes him even more effective and likeable.
In one scene that sums up Cousteau’s playful spirit very well, we see oceanauts threatening scallops with starfish, their natural predators, causing the scallops to gallop frenziedly across the ocean floor. It’s a little cruel, and probably isn’t the kind of interference that would be tolerated by 21st century marine biologists, but it is quite amusing nonetheless.
Wes Anderson’s 2004 comedy-drama The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou was inspired by his boyhood fascination with Cousteau, and the DVD and Blu-ray release of this mid-60s classic will hopefully encourage a new generation of viewers to acquaint themselves with the innovative work of the explorer, ecologist and filmmaker who died in 1997.
Apart from co-developing the aqua-lung, Cousteau pioneered filmmaking techniques that allowed him and his crew to capture life beneath the waves in incredible detail. In spite of being almost fifty years old, World Without Sun still looks spectacular, and still has the power to immerse viewers in a world increasingly under threat.
World Without Sun was the second Cousteau film to win an Oscar for best documentary feature, following the earlier success of The Silent World in 1956, and has stood the test of time remarkably well. Fascinating and compelling, it brings the mysteries of the deep into your living room. JG
REVIEW: DVD Release: Voyage To The Edge Of The World

Film: Voyage To The Edge Of The World
Year of production: 1976
UK Release date: 23rd May 2011
Distributor: Go Entertain
Certificate: E
Running time: 90 mins
Director: Philippe Cousteau
Starring: Jacques-Yves Cousteau
Genre: Documentary
Format: DVD
Country of Production: France
Language: French (English dub)
Review by: Calum Reed
“We are witnesses to the vanishing of an eternity,” Philippe Cousteau proclaims in the final breaths of his documentary, Voyage To The Edge Of The World, as his father, Jacques, reaches the end of his journey to the outer-reaches of the South Pole. Of all the faraway cultural landscapes and alien habitats open to exploration, Antarctica appears to be the en-vogue topic of the moment; Luc Jacquet’s March Of The Penguins chronicled the life cycle of its bird-dwellers, while more recently Werner Herzog’s Encounters At The Edge Of The World sees the renowned director ape the Cousteau family’s 1975 cross-continental trip. As mentioned in the film, this journey marks a two-hundred-year anniversary of explorer Captain James Cook’s crossing of the Antarctic Circle during his circumnavigation of the globe in the 18th century.
Despite Cousteau’s established attachment to the underwater world as an oceanographer, evident in his work for National Geographic, and Oscar-winning feature Le Monde du Silence, this marked the man’s most daring endeavour to date.
In 1973, Captain Cousteau set sail for Antarctica in his boat, Calypso, accompanied by a crew that included his son Philippe, a previous collaborator and partner on TV series The Undersea World Of Jacques Cousteau. The film follows the Cousteau and the Calypso from the time that it arrives at the South Pole to the end of the exploration of its waters.
While a prolific filmmaking duo during their time together, Philippe would work with his father just one more time after Voyage – in their search for the lost continent of Atlantis – before a boat crash caused his untimely death in 1979, at the age of 39...
While primarily an ode to the South Seas and their unorthodox array of creatures, Voyage To The Edge Of The World is just that – a voyage – and it manages to convey the sense of journeyman in Cousteau et crew particularly well given that there isn’t a diary-structure as such. One of its most appealing attributes is that Philippe Cousteau doesn’t get too over determined with creating a compelling narrative outside of marine life and glacial terrain. But for a brief segment where he mourns the tragic accidental loss of Michel Laval, the ship’s second-in-command, the emphasis is always placed upon gaining insight into a world we know relatively little about – especially considering that this occurred nearly forty years ago. When Philippe does attempt to inject drama, it’s usually through presenting the landscape as a hurdle for the expedition; the group must first navigate an active volcano and later navigate a pool of icebergs in order to progress safely.
What’s achieved is largely through exercising a patient approach, understated up to its euphoric final moments, even as Philippe pertains to include swooping aerial shots and a graceful musical score. Father and son also alternate between providing voiceover commentary, resisting literary intonation in favour of a more practical impression of the place. The aesthetic qualities of Voyage To The Edge Of The World lie in its faithfulness to the sea – perhaps not surprising, as both father and son are proven pioneers in the field of documentarianism. Their welcome desire to leave this distant climate unimposed allows the forays into penguin behaviour and deepwater organisms to provoke their own inherent allure and magic; the Cousteaus project romantic ideas onto Antarctica, but don’t purport to be above their station as fledgling voyagers. They remain incredibly respectful of it as a haven for sailors, naturalists, enthusiasts in its untouched state.
Above all, Cousteau creates the impression of Antarctica as a tranquil odyssey, aided heavily by editor Hedwige Bienvenu’s fluid, assured style. While Voyage To The Edge Of The World wanes a little in interest in the middle section, that’s more a result of pedantic explanation of processes than it is of the film’s diminishment as a visual showpiece. It’s pieced together with loving delicacy and thoughtful flair; a stripped-bare, simplistic presentation of life in the South, and a reservedly charming engagement with the natural world. As the film builds towards an underwater climax, Cousteau and crew’s passion for this unknown corner of the world is felt – without the need for heavy personalisation or dramatic camerawork.
Serenely mastered, Voyage To The Edge Of The World is Cousteau’s love letter to nature; in particular, the mystery and metaphysics beneath Antarctica’s oceanic expanse. It’s a modestly-played documentary designed more towards developing intrigue through a meditative comb of the location rather than an exciting adventure story, and surely succeeds in opening our eyes to the mystical beauty of a wilderness and the settlers who inhabit it. More concerned with the power of imagery than a need to educate and inform, the film finds a median between postcard admiration and spiritual fascination in detailing – what many believed to be – the point at which civilisation ceased to exist. CR
REVIEW: DVD Release: The Silent World
Film: The Silent World
Year of production: 1956
UK Release date: 23rd May 2011
Distributor: Go Entertain
Certificate: E
Running time: 86 mins
Director: Jacques-Yves Cousteau & Louis Malle
Genre: Documentary
Format: DVD
Country of Production: Italy/France
Language: French
Review by: Rob Ward
Having inspired swathes of oceanographers and documentary makers from Steve Zissou to David Attenborough, Jacques Cousteau was a true trailblazer in the world of underwater filmmaking. And now, more than fifty years after its initial release, this groundbreaking feature is available for home audiences on DVD and Blu-ray. But in the face of modern technology and filming techniques, can Cousteau’s 1954 Oscar winner still hold its own?
Set on board the good ship Calypso, The Silent World follows Cousteau and co-director Louis Malle on their mission to capture the hitherto unseen beauty of the deeps on camera.
Filmed in glorious Technicolor, the film reveals the unseen world and a wealth of life which was brand new to the original audience.
Life on board the boat is both a voyage of discovery and an adventure, as the crew utilise aqualung technology to film deeper than ever before, capturing shark attacks, shipwrecks and a sense of boundless possibility…
The film opens with a stunning descent to the depths, as five bare-chested divers swim through a vivid blue expanse. Each carries a flaming torch, somehow burning despite being submerged. Huge gas plumes rise above them as the commentary announces that "this is a motion-picture studio 65 feet under the sea." It’s an intriguing opening, beautifully framed and impressive so many years after the event – largely because it leaves an audience accustomed to wetsuits and cutting edge diving equipment, wondering how it’s possible to survive and film at such depths with underwater flares and antiquated oxygen tanks.
The divers are compared to spacemen and it’s easy to see why. Their movements are not typically human and their environment is utterly alien. With the seabed illuminated by large floodlights, the blue water is punctuated by corals and crustaceans of bright reds and oranges – a natural contrast to the burning orange flares which previously lit their way. But upon surfacing, the crew become merely human again. And their humanity is in stark contrast to the natural beauty they left below the ocean’s surface.
Cousteau is a bronzed, hard-bodied figure. His leathery skin and lean frame make him look rather like one of the sea-creatures he seeks to film – and he’s seemingly less comfortable on deck than he is underwater. Despite giving a fascinating insight into the cameras and filming apparatus which allowed their early forays beneath the waves, it is the ethical and environmental choices made by Cousteau and his crew which jar with a modern audience.
Despite describing the ‘50s as a “golden age” for underwater exploration, much of Cousteau’s aim in this film seems to be the exploitation of the natural resources. Perhaps hindsight and greater knowledge of the natural world are responsible for the uncomfortable feeling which accompanies watching a man hitching a ride on a turtle or dynamiting a coral reef, but it’s impossible to imagine that someone as well versed in the relationship between mankind and marine life failed to realise how wrong it is to interfere in such a way. And such misgivings are nothing compared to those which accompany the film’s most disturbing scene...
Following a huge pod of sperm whales, the Calypso follows them through the ocean. Sadly, a young calf is pulled under the boat and into its propellers. Bleeding heavily, it is unlikely to survive, so Cousteau makes the decision to pull it alongside the ship and put it out of its misery by shooting it. The water around the ship is red with blood and, predictably, begins to attract sharks. These scavengers of the sea tear the whale to pieces. Whilst this might be difficult for some viewers to watch, it is not nearly as uncomfortable as seeing the Calypso’s crew dragging these sharks onto the boat’s deck and hacking at them with axes and crowbars.
It’s a sickeningly unnecessary display of vengeance. But what are they seeking revenge for? Animals attacking and eating an animal which has already died – and at their hands? Whilst the footage is dramatic, it is utterly contrived and completely barbaric. It serves no purpose, and even their relative lack of knowledge cannot defend them against accusations of opportunism and bloodlust.
Punctuating the documentary are some truly excruciating scenes of ‘faux reality’. Much like those seen in reality TV pap like The Only Way Is Essex, The Silent World features some heightened versions of reality. Rehearsed and acted, these come across as being uncomfortable and unnatural for everyone involved. It’s a shame that the conventions of the time didn’t allow for a more realistic portrayal of everyday events – the watching audience would have been afforded a much more interesting window into the truth of Cousteau’s adventures were it not for these parodies of reality.
There are some wonderful episodes, though. A pod of dolphins is captured playfully swimming alongside the Calypso, and an underwater wreck is explored in exquisite and understated detail. Combined with Cousteau’s infectious (although often misplaced) enthusiasm, this ensures that there is enough of interest here to ensure that it remains a historically and cinematically interesting piece.
The Silent World is little more than a period piece, serving to remind us how far our knowledge and understanding of the natural world has developed in the last half century. Whilst Cousteau shone a light on how fascinating life in the oceans is, he never really illuminated it. That this was due to ignorance or the lack of necessary technology is a moot point: whilst we have the likes of the BBC producing nature programmes like The Blue Planet, we will only ever need to view Jacques Cousteau as relic and a reminder of how far we’ve come. RW
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