Among history’s best records of our planet and human civilization, of the textbooks, scientific journals, political and cultural documents – even the decaying ruins of ancient cities – the cinema stands as one of our most significant self-reflections. The cinema, as any art form, has the power to record the spirit of an age, but with the clarity of a mirror. Only the performing arts share cinema’s direct and encompassing representation of culture, though the cinema is as archive-able as our oldest texts. Dudley Andrew, author of “Cinema & Culture,” states in clearly, that, “a cultural history of cinema must reconstruct the temper of the times, neither through the direct appreciation of its products nor through the direct amassing of ‘relevant facts,’ but through an indirect reconstruction of the conditions of representation that permitted such films to be made, to be understood, even to be misunderstood, controversial, or trivial. More than this, as certain key films attest, the movies create as well as display a culture's imagination” (Andrew). What’s more, film and video are accessible to the ordinary civilian, yielding an even more extensive documentation of culture, society and civilization via varied perspectives. It then goes without saying that, in analyzing the environmental movement as a recent cultural development, filmic representation of the natural world is revealing historical documentation.
Filmic visions of our planet record not only contemporary issues, but also our social reactions and concerns. These visions are sometimes distributed as entertainment in the form of popular movies or television shows, but also as scientific, educational or politically motivated arguments, and it would seem that these separate intentions are at opposite sides of an environmental debate: that an environmentally themed film should necessarily transcend the purpose of passive entertainment if it’s to be effective in making some kind of change. In other words, why gander at natural images without recognizing their impermanence? The market has developed several solutions to this question, resulting in the formation of many sub-genre categories of the “environmental film,” each with its own intended audience. These sub-genres depend on specific demographics and yield respectively varied effects on the social consideration of environmental ideas. These different methods of communicating with an audience ultimately reflect a specific time in environmental consciousness that focuses on the individual spectator, rather than one unified ideology of the movement.
Since we’re talking about environmental issues, it’s important to highlight a few key moments of the movement. While discourse on the environment finds its roots in the 19th century, the popular environmental movement began in the 1960s, largely thanks to Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring, which gave a social critique of pollution in our environment. Both organizations Greenpeace and Friends of our Environment took flight in 1971, and then in 1972 began the first of the United Nation’s 10-yearly Earth Summits. Awareness increased throughout the 70s, and 1983 saw the United Nations General Assembly created UN World Commission on Environment and Development. Global warming became hot topic in the 1990s, and since then the debate has only gotten larger (Reynolds). Over the last few decades environmentalism has picked up speed, and its increasing popularity is evident in cinema. In these years that environmentalism gained popularity, its issues became increasingly visible in film and video, and today films with environmental images are quite popular at the movie theaters.
In its early stages, environmentalism was widely regarded as liberal nonsense, though it has since gained recognition as a global concern, further increasing the presence of environmental issues in popular discourse and ultimately resulting in the emergence of the mentioned sub-genre categories of the environmental film. In fact, if the ordinary civilian were asked to identify “sub-genre categories” of the environmental film, they’d have no idea what they were being asked. Still, when identified, most movie-goers might understand the distinction between, say, the nature documentary “March of the Penguins,” and the animated children’s movie, “Happy Feet.” Both of these films convey environmentally driven messages, though they appeal to different (overlapping) audiences: one is designed for people of all ages - the average movie-watcher, intrigued by the fantasy of remote lands, cute animals, and warm-hearted narration, and the other, in the case of “Happy Feet,” simply for children and their parents. Beyond Hollywood exists even more classifications of environmental cinema, kinds of special-interest films ranging from low-budget independent documentaries, the avant-garde film, or even local-issue documentaries focused on making some kind of impact within a smaller community. For the sake of argument we’ll lump these types of films into two generalized, but contained categorizations, the first of which I’ll describe as the large-audience environmental film.
Naturally, the large-audience environmental film is more familiar than the smaller, and for good (business) reasons! There shouldn’t be a need to point out that Hollywood is an industry dependent on creating and responding to social trends, but that’s the nature of the beast: that a marketing strategy strives to be invisible. Derek Bouse, author of Wildlife Films, points out that, “How film and television depict the natural world often has far less to do with science or real outdoor experience than with media economics, established production practices, viewers’ expectations, and the ways each of these influences the others” (Bouse 1). Films within the industry rely on critical success, word of mouth, and lasting reputation. Then, any large-audience environmental film by default seeks some common denominator that connects most powerfully with the largest variety of people. These films are subject to the game of weighing costs and profits, and it’s a tough industry. If money is the lifeblood of these films, how can we be sure they’re actually even working towards improving environmental conditions?
No matter the message of a film, the intentions of major studios seem about as “green” as a dollar bill. Still, it could be said that, if nothing else, these films garner a greater appreciation for the environment and a more global awareness of environmental ideas. It is true that any kind of public representation, regardless of studio intentions, at the very least keeps environmental issues contemporary. If it’s entertainment, people won’t ignore it, and if people won’t ignore it, it’s entertainment! So, obviously, increasing awareness is better than not, but some argue that Hollywood environmental films don’t encourage enough participation.
The argument against Hollywood nature films as activism demands that sitting in a theater, or on your couch, or in your computer chair, no matter how much “awareness” these films garner, ultimately fails in compelling people to action. Marketing is the adversary of integrity. For instance, take New Line Cinema’s owl movie, Hoot, which tells the story of a group of kids that stand up against a construction development that threatens a population of endangered owls. New Line partnered with the National Wildlife Federation in promoting the movie, releasing this statement: “In an effort to build awareness for the needs of wildlife and engage families in a fun and interactive activity, New Line Cinema has created a program where consumers can download a HOOT DESKTOP PET, which helps fund the National Wildlife Federation's efforts to protect owls and other wildlife and habitat around the country” ("New Line Cinema Encourages Audience Environmentalism..." ). The movie sends a great message: kids - you can stand up to industry and save the environment. The marketing strategy, however, convinces those kids to sit at home on a computer and pretend they’re making a difference by playing with some digital avatar. Sure, the program raises money for the National Wildlife Federation, but that’s a great way of saying, “Someone else will worry about it so that all you have to do is just stay home, buy our products and feel influential.”
Authors Bouse and Gregg Mitman describe why these large-audience nature films appeal to the contemporary viewer, attributing their appeal to an ability to relate with the audience, and a public voyeurism for remote landscapes. Bouse claims that, “in wildlife films it is nearly always story that matters most” (Bouse 36), and continues to describe how these films create familiar narratives, often based around the idea of the family. Mitman takes the explanation further by asserting that, “Whether crafted to elicit thrills or to preserve and educate audiences about the real-life drama of threatened wildlife, nature films then and now reveal much about the yearnings of Americans to both be close to nature and yet distinctly apart,” (Mitman 4). We love to watch nature because we can relate with it, and at the same time we’re thrilled with its mysteries.
However, on the other hand of the debate about environmental cinema, the small-audience environmental film has different motivations. The success of these videos doesn’t rely on marketing or profits, so we can more easily assume their intentions are genuine. Instead, the small-audience environmental video focuses on the advancement of some specific or local cause. Austra, a member of Arts Engine (an organization promoting “independent media of consequence”), states it well, that, “This kind of media isn’t trying to sell you anything other than a voice in the debate about the future of the planet” (Austra). With money out of the picture, the effect of environmental images is measurable, and even tangible.
The small-environmental video has proven itself as an influential medium that has the power to compel people into action. Austra also demonstrates how these videos reach people:
The international environmental organization Greenpeace, for instance, has achieved a good deal of notoriety and success over the past 20 years sending camera crews around the globe -- into the middle of the ocean filming whale hunts, to the bottom of the world documenting pollution in Antarctica, and underneath the sea capturing the murderous impact of driftnets. The power of these images has been essential in moving the public to call for an end to commercial whaling, international protection for Antarctica, and a U.N. ban on driftnet fishing. (Austra)
Needless to say, Greenpeace is non-profit organization, so these documentations aren’t necessarily for the purpose of entertainment, but politics - not just about awareness, but also action. Austra goes on to describe several instances in which small-audience environmental films have solved specific issues. In one example, an everyday citizen documented trucks carrying garbage to landfills in the Midwest and then returning to the East Coast with food bound for supermarkets. Her story appeared on several important news shows on primetime television, and the woman explained that, “In dealing with the news media, just a small amount of footage can say a lot. Without the video, I don’t think our message would have gotten out” (Austra). Her civilian footage convinced state officials to pass legislation regulating out-of-state waste, demonstrating the true power of environmental video.
The crux of this debate relies on whether or not environmental film or video has the necessary responsibility to elicit more than awareness. The Cinema is traditionally a place of entertainment before politics, and so I think it’s naïve to demand that popular movies adhere to such a social responsibility. Still, ethics can’t be ignored. The industrial revolution made clear that we have a very delicate relationship with the earth, and in recent decades the environmental movement has become increasingly prominent. The frequent presence of natural images in these mediums evidences our contemporary concerns. Ultimately, Hollywood’s passive use of these images abuses the importance of these issues. In other words, the intentions of large-audience environmental film negate social principal, and in such an ethical argument this kind of film serves little to no purpose other than describing the human race as lazy, hypocritical and apathetic. After all, the Cinema is a symbol of escapism. At the end of the day, it’s up to the individual spectator to decide what to do with their environmental consciousness.
Works Cited
"New Line Cinema Encourages Audience Environmentalism...." The Big Screen Cinema Guide 28 03 2006 1. 17 Feb 2009
Andrew, Dudley. "Cinema & Culture." Humanities Vol. 6 No. 4(1985) 18 Feb 2009
Austra. "Do Environmental Films Help the Environment?." MediaRights 07 09 2001 1. 20 Feb 2009
Derek Bousé. Wildlife Films. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000.
Gregg Mitman. Reel Nature: America’s Romance with Wildlife on Film. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999.
Reynolds, Andy. "A Brief History of Environmentalism." Channel 4 (2002) 18 Feb 2009
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