We typically think that documentaries only have the capacity to inform or entertain. Sometimes they can horrify, like when a filmmaker depicts genocide or other atrocities. But in the breadth of possible emotional responses, it is rare for a documentary to thrill. Non-narrative filmmakers do not normally have that kind of ambition, and when they do, the confines of realism have this pesky problem of getting in the way. Directed by Kevin MacDonald, the documentary Touching the Void sidesteps many of these challenges, somehow becoming one of the most suspenseful films ever made, let alone the most suspenseful documentary by a significant margin. More than a typical nail-biter, parts of the film are downright agonizing because of its gripping premise and the moviemaking craft deployed to recreate it.
The use of recreations has always been controversial in the documentary film world – Errol Morris received plenty of pushback after The Thin Blue Line, for example – and yet that is the only technique that could do this story justice. It involves two British mountain climbers, Joe Simpson and Simon Yates, who scale a previously unclimbed face of Siula Grande in Peru. Simpson and Yates narrate the film, describing what happened on their descent – they made it to the peak without incident – while the actors Brendan Mackey and Nicholas Aaron portray them in flashbacks. If Mackey and Aaron do not look like their counterparts, it hardly matters to MacDonald, who keeps them covered in snow, ice, and frostbite. After a while, Touching the Void achieves a remarkable effect: it makes us simply accept that the recreations are accurate.
Simpson and Yates are effective storytellers. They speak matter-of-factly, sometimes with a strain of mordant humor, which helps us develop sympathy for what befalls them. During the descent in stormy conditions, a fall leads to a catastrophic injury: Simpson’s fibula – or calf bone – completely shatters his kneecap. MacDonald spares the audience from showing the injury in grisly detail, although perhaps our imaginations are more powerful than anything he could depict onscreen. Yates and Simpson have no choice but to continue downward, then somehow an even worse disaster strikes. Tethered by only one rope, Yates finds himself on the edge of a crevasse, while the injured Simpson dangles off its edge. Yates is losing his footing, which would cause them both to fall, and in the snowstorm they cannot communicate with one another. Yates has no choice. He cuts the rope, sending Simpson deep into the crevasse. But Simpson survives.
At first, you might think the structure Touching the Void diminishes its power. Thanks to the mere appearance of both climbers, we know they made it. A foregone conclusion does not mean, however, that the film lacks tension. Many documentaries use misdirection and outright lies to manipulate their audiences in an unfair way: the true crime documentary Dear Zachary tricks us into believing a child survives a negligent mother, only to reveal he has been dead the whole time, while another mountain climbing documentary, The Alpinist, does the same for its tragic hero. In those examples, the filmmaker’s distrust for the audience may lead to an immediate emotional payoff, although it is at the expense of the audience’s good faith. Touching the Void depicts an obscure story in the right way, with MacDonald realizing that a predetermined outcome does not make the journey any less harrowing. After all, if a friend tells you a story of surviving a dangerous situation, doesn’t your empathy put you in their shoes from moment to moment? And to use a more recent example from the movies, what happens in Oppenheimer is a matter of history, and yet the lead-up to the Trinity Test is one of the great examples of suspenseful cinematic storytelling.
The story of Simpson’s successful return to basecamp is not the usual triumph of the human spirit. MacDonald does not supply Simpson a backstory, like flashbacks to his family back in England or some hackneyed connection to Yates. Instead, his method for survival is remarkably simple: his wristwatch still functions, so he gives himself incremental goals every few minutes, during which time he must crawl on hop to another rock. He is merciless, beating himself up if he does make a deadline, and the technique finally proves to be effective. Not only does this make Simpson deeply relatable, as many of us can be our own worst critics, but it also means that spite is his primary motivator. For those of us who are skeptical of films with the tagline “based on an incredible true story,” it is refreshing and more recognizable to have someone succeed through a relatable gamut of emotions.
Touching the Void has been somewhat controversial in the climbing community because of Yates’ decision to cut the rope, a third rail for this kind of expedition. MacDonald has no interest in litigating ethics in this insular community, and instead presents a situation where Yates had no choice (in the years after this incident, Simpson publicly forgave Yates). MacDonald’s recreations have the dual effect of putting us in the mindset of both climbers, a feeling enhanced by the intense, windswept mountain photography. We wonder whether we would have held the rope, or have simply given up hope in the crevasse. Of course, most of us cannot handle that kind of stress. We would have gone to pieces immediately, which is part of what makes the film such an extraordinary achievement. Unlike most documentaries, it creates a deep empathy so we can have some sense of how Yates and Simpson felt, just not too much since – if it depicted brutal conditions with any more accuracy – then it would not be so riveting.
The post Holy Hell! Touching the Void Turns 20 appeared first on Spectrum Culture.