The Silent World Speaks Volumes


            While one may certainly find many examples of early wildlife films gone awry, from staged suicide scenes to tasty-tidbit tiger teasing, a gem is found when viewing Jacques Cousteau’s 1954 underwater adventure The Silent World (Le Monde du silence). Though in need of ethical polishing by today’s standards, this jewel epitomizes the early wildlife film genre’s potential to educate in an entertaining manner. Featuring oceanographical content delivered through a character driven narrative, the groundbreaking documentary is hosted with well-mannered candor, and a personal connection with the audience is created; we are the gentleman adventurer’s privileged guests with the fourth wall removed. Like one of Cousteau’s faithful crew, the viewer boards the ship Calypso on a grand quest for knowledge through oceanic exploration, and in so doing, is educated, entertained, and inspired. The Silent World inadvertently defines the industry’s early blue-chip wildlife film sub-genre in both content and delivery.
Blue-chips are not just snacks served on Southwest Airlines, but rather a sub-genre of wildlife films; however, the film examples offered by industry professionals vary so greatly that clarification is needed in order to appreciate Cousteau’s The Silent World for setting the standard. Not all agree upon where the categorical lines should be drawn. Per author and documentarian Derek Bousé in his book Wildlife Films, “blue chip films [feature] the story of a single animal … against a spectacular natural backdrop” (p. 42).[1] Further, he states “the essence of today’s blue chip wildlife films [are] idealized portrayals of the natural world…which…typically exclude images that would ground them in the historical present.” He diminishes the significance of the sub-genre by providing Disney’s True Life Adventures and the animated feature The Lion King as examples of the “wish-fulfilling expressions of the pleasure-principle” (p. 9). Even more mainstream and conventional nature programming is not immune to criticism, as Bousé mentions PBS’s iconic Nature series among the blue-chip programming, which he alludes is failing to meet its true potential for advocacy (p. 81).
Conversely, Chris Palmer’s Shooting in the Wild: An Insider's Account of Making Movies in the Animal Kingdom describes the sub-genre using a less biased approach, and the parameters are consequently more clearly defined. Specifically, by stating what blue-chip wildlife programs do not include, Palmer helps to define what they are. Like Cousteau’s aforementioned iconic underwater documentary from 1954, these films should “brim with information about animal behavior in their natural history while steering clear politics and policy, which their producers believe will date the film or taint it with controversy” (p. 14).[2] Advocacy content may alienate audiences and thereby prevent broad distribution.
Further in contrast to the guidelines provided by Bousé in which blue-chip films are divided by those with human characters and those without (p. 43), Palmer states that humans are rarely featured at all, let alone as supporting actors to heroic animal stars. Instead of fictional narratives with animal characters, or historical animal-themed fiction loosely based on an actual event, Palmer’s blue-chip wildlife programs “focus on charismatic species such as bears and sharks, filmed in a magnificent, pristine landscape without any visible powerlines or fences” (p. 14). The BBC’s 2001 wildlife documentary The Blue Planet series is used by Palmer as an example for the blue-chip sub-genre; “Each of its eight one-hour episodes examined a different aspect of marine life and featured amazing, never-before-seen footage of life in the world's oceans.” Again, what is not included is nearly as important as what is aired when classifying the documentary sub-genre type. Per Palmer, “The Blue Planet doesn't mention climate change, pollution, or endangered species…The films purpose was not to … inform people about these problems but rather to show viewers creatures and wild places they've never seen before. It's meant to be educational entertainment rather than advocacy” (p. 14).
The blue-chip model should also reduce the complexities of the natural world which would otherwise be presented in an unpalatable manner to the non-scientific community. A narrative (or story telling aspect) of these productions should not include works of pure fiction, known as “narrative art” but filmed with animal performers as indicated by Bousé. Accordingly, a program should not immediately be included in the wildlife documentary genre simply because it contains animals within its frames. Consequently, The Blue Planet and Free Willy should not be classified in the same genre; the difference is in the documentary, a term coined by Scotsman John Grierson in 1926 as “A creative treatment of actuality,” which harkens back to the Lumière brothers and their early films capturing actual events.[3] According to Raymond Spottiswoode, a British film theoretician, “The classical documentary film [is one] in which observation outruns interpretation” (p. 21).
Aforementioned commentary indicates that an industry-wide standard clearly defining the sub-genre is lacking; however, one may ascertain that a hypothetical synthesis of the experts’ blue-chip wildlife film criteria would most certainly include megafauna. The settings in which these large animals are filmed must be spectacular, and a dramatic narrative must move a story forward. The story itself should not be a complete fiction; rather, a basic reality should be reflected with the purpose of attracting, retaining, and educating a broad audience in an entertaining manner. In order to appeal to the majority (and thereby attain ratings), blue-chip wildlife films should not be scientifically complex or exceedingly technical. They should not approach political topics, which may divide and alienate the audience, and they should not document timely or historical issues, which may prevent future airings due to outdated material. Blue-chip wildlife films are the French Vanilla of the ice cream world; everyone likes them, and it’s easy to detect artificial flavoring.
Rewind back half a century to join Jacques-Yves Cousteau on the deck of the Calypso for megafauna, spectacular settings, and a dramatic (yet truth-based and educational) narrative delivered entertainingly. We are introduced to the crew and their respective roles as this character driven story begins. The audience becomes emotionally invested in the wellbeing of those we have met, and we laugh when the decompressing crewman misses a lobster lunch only because he is not truly injured. Modern day SCUBA divers cringe and identify with Cousteau as the captain asks for the mathematically-challenging diving tables, and we salivate at the meal prepared by the Calypso’s cook. We may even cry when the infant whale is injured and subsequently killed to ease its suffering, and outrage is expected when the reef is destroyed with explosives.
The story of Cousteau and his crew’s two year voyage of oceanic discovery reflect a basic reality and not a fictional tale. The material presented is easily digestible to viewers of all ages and backgrounds without complex scientific jargon. Cousteau, a former French naval officer in World War II, could have justifiably made any number of derogatory remarks against Germany, but both politics and historical events were omitted; instead, focus remained on content and delivery. Hollywood-style cinematic conventions produced compelling color footage of the oceans’ depths as never seen before. Megafauna, such as whales, sharks, and Ulysses (the grouper) are filmed in the grandest of aquatic settings: the Indian Ocean, the Mediterranean Sea, the Persian Gulf, and the Red Sea, with the narrative moving forward throughout. Artful directing of The Silent World, and limited close ups on human participants, allowed the film to be dubbed in many languages without significant distraction, thereby resulting in the successful worldwide distribution of an early blue-chip film from which modern-day standards were set.




[1] Derek Bousé, Wildlife Films (University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), accessed July 23, 2017, http://0-www.jstor.org.library.lemoyne.edu/stable/j.ctt3fhgg4.

[2] Chris Palmer, Shooting in the Wild: An Insider's Account of Making Movies in the Animal Kingdom (Counterpoint, 2010), Kindle edition.

[3] Raymond Spottiswoode, Film and Its Techniques (University of California Press, 1968), accessed July 22, 2017. ‎https://books.google.com/books?id=XbiLmO8DEW0C.

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