Green on the screen

It can hardly have escaped your notice that the world is in a pretty bad way. The ice caps are melting, the ozone layer is disintegrating, greenhouse gases are reaching dangerous levels and we are fast running out of natural resources. If we are to dig ourselves out of this hole we are all going to have to change how we live. Not only that but our leaders will have to make some hard and unpopular decisions, forcing us all to be more responsible, proactive and considerate.

That much we know. There are some, though, who think we don’t, or at least that we may have somehow forgot. Hence the rise of the eco-doc, a new breed of scaremongering film that insists on ramming home the message that we’re all basically screwed. Former Vice-President Al Gore began the trend with his Oscar-winning An Inconvenient Truth, laying out the incontrovertible evidence behind climate change and global warming. Then came The 11th Hour, Leonardo DiCaprio’s doom-laden chronicle of the numerous ways we’ve raped and pillaged Mother Earth. Not long ago there was The Age of Stupid, a free for all compilation of apocalyptic case histories presented by Pete Postlethwaite’s morose future historian. And this week brings us The End of the Line, a downbeat look at how we have decimated the oceans through rampant overfishing.

There’s no doubt all these movies were produced with the best intentions by impassioned filmmakers using their medium to address pressing issues that affect us all. What, though, is the net result of this current green onslaught? It’s possible that their audiences might be inspired to alter their lifestyles, at least in the short term, and encourage their families and friends to follow suit. It’s also possible, however, that those same audiences may be filled by a profound sense of impotent helplessness, especially when confronted by the scale of a problem it will take generations of concerted effort to reverse.

Then there’s the matter of who those audiences are. By and large films like Gore’s preach to a converted, clued-up minority who are well aware of the issues they identify and have already changed their habits accordingly. Those who haven’t are either too dim-witted to be reached or have made a conscious decision to be selfish and rapacious; either way, it’s unlikely any documentary, however well-argued, will have the desired effect. Indeed, it’s entirely possible that exposure to such films will only harden their attitudes further. After all no one enjoys being lectured, especially by pampered Hollywood stars whose concern for the environment seems little more than a passing affectation.

What purpose, then, do green documentaries serve? Either they are telling the few what they already know, or they’re telling the many what they don’t want to hear. Now don’t get me wrong – I’m as concerned about the planet as the next person, and I’m certainly not advocating burying one’s head in the sand. As someone who sees films for a living, though, I have yet to see an eco-doc that qualifies as one. The inconvenient truth about An Inconvenient Truth was that it was a filmed PowerPoint demo, delivered by Al with all the élan of an accountant. The End of the Line, meanwhile, is painfully uncinematic, dependent as it is on shaky camcorder footage, computer graphics and an endless round of talking heads.

Clearly these films have one eye on the small screen; indeed, it’s possible that was what they were originally made for. The moment you project them in a big one, though, their failings and limitations become painfully evident, especially when compared to the slick Hollywood entertainments playing alongside them. It’s a little rich, too, to ask people to pay for the privilege of being harangued and depressed, particularly when they can have the same experience simply by picking up a newspaper or watching Channel 4.

The biggest problem, though, is that one eco-doc is pretty much the same as another. In essence they are all peddling the same message, using the same tactics and pandering to the same western guilt. Time perhaps to give this particular subgenre a rest, at least until it finds a new way to bang the same old drum.