Anthropocene: The Human Epoch-alypse

By Katherine Monk

It’s called a “feature documentary and multi-disciplinary project exploring human impact on the Earth,” so Anthropocene, the movie, is just the first part of what Jennifer Baichwal, Nicholas de Pencier and Edward Burtynsky plan to unleash on the world over the next few months.

They will also unveil museum shows at the Art Gallery of Ontario and the National Gallery of Canada, a new series of Burtynsky fine art photography, immersive virtual and augmented reality experiences and an extensive outreach program for schools, as well as a coffee table art book from Steidl.

Anthropocene is easily the most ambitious project from the team that brought us Watermark and Manufactured Landscapes. Yet, after two previous efforts in the same ecological vein, it also feels a little déja-vu.

Like the other two films that form this trilogy, Anthropocene: The Human Epoch is a collage of jaw-dropping images inspired by the unique eye of Edward Burtynsky, the Toronto-based landscape photographer known for capturing an eerie beauty in images of environmental degradation at the industrial hands of humanity.

We pay a visit to unfathomably large pit mines in Europe, garbage heaps in the developing world, and the dying corals on the doomed Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Travelling to six continents, 20 countries and 43 unique locations, the team hoped to record the undeniable transformation of the natural world at human hands — or what a group of scientists describes as the Anthropocene Epoch.

We pay a visit to unfathomably large pit mines in Europe, garbage heaps in the developing world, and the dying corals on the doomed Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Travelling to six continents, 20 countries and 43 unique locations, the team hoped to record the undeniable transformation of the natural world at human hands — or what a group of scientists describes as the Anthropocene Epoch.

Though not yet an official term for the current geological time period we occupy, Anthropocene has been a term in common usage since the dawn of the nuclear age, when it first became apparent humans were having a profound impact on the Earth’s natural processes.

This film acts as a powerful argument in favour of adopting Anthropocene to describe our current era because it shows how effectively we’ve altered the natural world. We’ve literally cut it to pieces.

For instance, in Carrara, Italy, the local mountains are half-missing on the horizon because they’ve been sliced and diced for slabs of high-priced marble. In China, they are building the biggest seawall in the world from concrete blocks in a bid to stop the loss of landmass as the tides rise. In Germany, the biggest machines in the world are digging a pit mine that’s eating a town whole.

We think we are small and the Earth is vast. Anthropocene visualizes the opposite — that our planet is small, and our collective footprint risks crushing everything we love and cherish about our world.

Alicia Vikander’s warm voice and elegant accent lend the narration a gentle tone, despite the dire themes, and the filmmaking collage is so well composed, it makes Anthropocene a surprisingly easy film to watch. Yet, in this aesthetic victory, there’s a loss of emotional impact. The filmmakers almost redeem all the ugly things humanity has wrought with a sense of awe, and at times, beauty. It’s a complicated equation, but there’s no question we’re the lowest common denominator and it adds up to Anthropocene.

@katherinemonk

Main Photo: Workers in underground potash mine in Berezniki, Russia 2018 photo © Edward Burtynsky, courtesy Nicholas Metivier Gallery, Toronto

THE EX-PRESS, October 17, 2018

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